


But Fate Refused to Listen

by hawkeyescoffee



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Abusive Joffrey Baratheon, Aegon Rhaenys and Jon have a good relationship, Aegon is sweet, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Arranged Marriage, Background Relationships, Casterly Rock, Cat/Ned are soulmates bc I said so, F/M, Idiots in Love, Jaime Lannister Being an Idiot, Jealousy, Joffrey Baratheon is His Own Warning, Jon Snow Knows Nothing, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, King Rhaegar Targaryen, Minor Cersei Lannister/Jaime Lannister, Myrcella deserves better in this im sorry, Not Rhaegar friendly, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Robb Stark is a Gift, Robb being his canon romantic dumbass self, Sexual Content, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Theon is a Womanizer, Unresolved Romantic Tension, aplies to most of them, but he is also dumb, endgame couples are tagged, heavy focus on Brienne/Jaime first, like the slowest, margaery is living her best live, not all soulmates get together, read and you'll understand
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:21:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 27
Words: 61,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25056127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawkeyescoffee/pseuds/hawkeyescoffee
Summary: Jaime loved Cersei.Brienne wanted to be a knight.But they matched so they were married in front of God and Men.Aegon loved Rhaenys and Rhaenys loved him, right?But Aegon had no mark and Rhaenys would marry Theon Greyjoy.Too bad Robb Stark had also found interested in the Princess and not his Soulmate.Viserys had no intention of marrying a girl without Dragon Blood and well Margaery preferred his nephew over him anyway.Jon didn’t know how to feel about Sansa; the feeling was mutual.Arya didn’t find someone to match that day, just as Samwell and many others.Who would help poor Jeyne Oakheart?Fate and all the Gods worked in mysterious ways anyway.
Relationships: Aegon VI Targaryen/Margaery Tyrell, Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth, Jon Snow/Sansa Stark, Robb Stark/Rhaenys Targaryen (Daughter of Elia)
Comments: 128
Kudos: 197





	1. Jaime I

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome to this weird idea I had for a while.  
> Updates are coming every Friday. Enjoy!

“No!”, Jamie looked at his father with wide eyes that betrayed his guilt. It was not his intention to make Tywin even angrier by disobeying him so openly. Still, he wished he had misheard the old lion.

“Well, _my dear boy_ , the king did not ask, but command and I, for one, am happy that you will finally take your rightful place as my heir. Gods forbid I would die and Tyrion would-“

Jamie wanted to intercept there too, but defending Tyrion was even a worse idea than objecting. So, Jamie kept his mouth shut and nodded.

“There is even a chance that my-“He scrunched his nose and spat the next word into his father’s face. “ _Soulmate_. That she is not even a noble or already married-“

Cersei, he thought by himself silently. It didn’t matter what the magic ink on his wrist said. Cersei was his other half, his only love and she was married to the oaf that called himself Robert Baratheon.

He didn’t want Casterly Rock and he had already children even if they would be raised to think they are Baratheon’s. There was nothing for him in the Westerlands, when Cersei and the children where in King’s Landing while Robert served the King in his small council.

Making Robert the Master of Laws was a sick joke Rhaegar played on all of them. After the King married the Stark girl betrothed to Robert and let her die in childbirth, he kept his cousin close and let him see the young prince grow up right under his nose.

Tywin put his hands on Jaime’s shoulders. “We will see. I don’t care about this soulmate business,”, he said. “I want you to marry and father children so I can die in peace one day.”

No Tywin did not care for soulmates, Joanna had. It was easy for Tywin to say when he had fallen in love with his wife before he even saw that their marks matched. It was so easy for him when he had loved her.

Jamie would never love the woman he would be forced to marry.

He would be miserable away from his heart, his family.

The poor girl would be the source of his unhappiness, as he would be the source of hers. Nothing about it was fair. And since he could not change anything, he smiled and said what his father wanted to hear.

When he left the room, he was numb and empty.

Jaime brushed his hand along the soft fabric of his white cloak as he resumed his place by Crown prince’s bedroom door. The Kings Spawn was sitting on the eldest boy’s bed and were talking with each other excitedly. Well, Rhaenys was chatting away. He could hear the muffled melody of her voice thru the door.

The voice he identified as Aegon was uncharacteristically quiet and coldly clipped and if he wasn’t sure that Jon was definitely in there with them, he would never know, since the youngest was not saying a word.

Daenerys was in there too. He could easily imagine her between the Niece and Nephews that were older than her, bright-eyed and excited to meet her Soulmate.

He was sure that it was what they were talking about. It was all anyone at court was talking about, gossiping about Soulmarks that handmaiden had sworn to have seen and placing beats on how was to marry whom.

There was a strange sense of annoyance as he listened to Princess Daenerys high voice rambling about marrying someone gently and passionate and fun. Before the King's order, it had been wildly assumed that the King's sister was to marry her brother Vyserys.

A man that was not only her senior by eight years but also cruel and very critical of his little sister to the point of blatant bullying and the occasional act of violence. It turned out rather quickly how protective the King's children were of their young Aunt.

Funnily enough, that had enabled Daenerys to have the most obvious, intense, and weirdly adorable infatuation with Jon, who had no idea how to deal with any of this.

The day she learned that they didn’t match broke her heart.

It was quiet for a while as Jaime had followed his train of thoughts. When the door was pushed open carelessly. Aegon stepped out anger displayed on his pretty face. Jamie did his best to ignore him and focus on a window on the other side of the hallway.

Aegon ripped up his bloodred ribbon that had been tight around his right wrist and threw it into the dirt.

His sister stood quietly by the door frame and watched him, with sharp lilac eyes. “Do you feel any better now?”, she asked almost mockingly. Jamie didn’t see it but he could imagine how Aegon was scrutinizing her with a death glare.

“I hate everything about this.”, he whispered, his voice small and defeated. “I hate to pretend that I have a Soulmark to appease father when everyone here already knows that I don’t have one. I hate how he clearly prefers Jon out of all of us and-“, he looked at the ceiling for a moment his words filling with venom worthy of his Martell kin. “I hate how he abandoned Mother.”

At this Rhaenys grew a bit softer. Where the prince was beautiful and kind looking like his mother, the princess had inherited Rhaeger's ability to appear absolutely distant and unreachable.

She pressed a hand to his cheek. “I know.”, she said simply with a faint smile. “But he is our father and our king. After him, you will have the world ugliest chair, just be patient, and when you are king you can do as you like.”

Aegon snorted at this, ugly and unashamed. “Not if Father gives the throne to Jon...” There was no bitterness to the statement only quiet resignation. Rhaenys took his face in both hands and made him look at her. “Jon doesn’t want the throne. He wants his brother, all his family to be happy and he wants some happiness for himself. Jon is not the enemy.”

Squeezing his cheeks, she said: “He loves you, dipshit. Nothing between the three of us will change.”

Without answering her immediately, Aegon took her hand and turned it around his thumb brushing her own ribbon away and caressed the red Anemone flower that marked her dark skin. “Father wants to marry you and Jon away.”

His own purple eyes were sad. “Everything is about to change.”

Jaime winced in sympathy.

He watched the siblings in this intimate moment. He saw how they looked at each other, how every touch, every word was elected with care and he saw the truth.

But where he thought he might feel for them, he only found green envy. The Targaryen were known for their incestuous relationships. If the two would marry no one would object. Not a soul in this rotten city. How were they different from him and Cersei that they deserved more, could have more so easily?

Aegon turned away and made a servant girl stop for him. “Sent for Ser Arthur please. I wish to meet him in the courtyard. “Ser Jamie, stay with my siblings.”

Jaime sighed at this. He was here for Aegon’s protection.

Rhaenys watched Aegon go with an unreadable expression, then she turned to him. “Ser Jamie.”, she was good at pretending, at hiding her emotions. Out of all Targaryen children, she was the most regal. She was the eldest sibling through and through. In a way, she reminded him of Cersei.

(If only for her fierceness and pride in her abilities.)

The princess was the firstborn, quick to think but carefully to act, mostly anyway. Where Aegon was soft and melancholic she was as sharp as dragons’ bones and realistic. Where Jon tented to loses his temper and was insecure, her furry was cold and longevity as the Northern Winter and she knew her strengths. Where her father was entitled, his daughter was cautious. Where her mother was loyal to a fault, her daughter was guarding her own heart as best as she could.

Daenerys was standing by the door and was glaring at Jaime openly and full of hate.

The older princess spoke: “Would you be so kind as to escort my aunt back to her rooms.”

“No.”, the girl mumbled quickly and stubbornly. Rhaenys knitted her forehead in an annoyed expression. “Danny.”, she tried calmly. “I know how you feel about Ser Jaime. I am sure he knows too, but he is a member of Rheagar’s Kingsguard and there is a level of respect that we owe him, because-“

The girl frowned now. “He killed my father. I don’t care what he does now. He _killed_ my father-“

“I will take her.” Jon, Jaherys, stepped up behind her. His northern features and Stark coloring looked wrong in his red dragon doubled.

A bit appeased by the offer of her favorite Nephew’s arm, Dany started to talk about the Soulmate ball as the Nobles in the Red Keep came to call tomorrow's event. The boy brought her away with sure steps.

Rhaenys stood there for a few heartbeats and watched them vanish.

For a moment she looked as fragile as her sickly mother and twice as tired.

Out of all the Targaryen Rhaenys treated him the best. She was almost friendly when she spoke to him and while it was not much for most, it was enough for him. Aegon was neutral, polite, and proper when he spoke to him. While Jon stayed polite too, Jamie saw the same disproving expression in the boy’s eyes, that Eddard Stark had shot him the day he found him on the iron throne.

The boy didn’t not only look like a copy of his uncle, but he was also annoyingly obsessed with people’s honor. But what was an oath to millions of souls?

There was Viserys who had known his father but had always been good at closing his eyes from the truth and believing his own turn of events that he regrettably indoctrinated his sister.

Rhaenys closed the door to Aegon’s room with care. When she turned back to him, there was nothing exhausted about her anymore. She was all smiles.

“Ser.”, her tone was carefully even, “Would you take me to see the gardens?” He smiled at her charmingly as he took her arm in his and brought her forward.

It was a beautiful day, but it did nothing to improve his foul mood.

The sun seemed too bright, the sky too blue and the aroma of blooming flowers to invasive. It all made him want to jump out of his own skin.

The princess stopped in front of the pink roses, brushing her delicate fingers over soft petals. For a moment she did not give him any attention, watching flowers sway in the breeze.

“How are you feeling, Ser Jaime?”

He was not sure what to reply to that, not really anyway. He felt like shit. He was angry and annoyed and tired, but that was nothing to tell the daughter of the King. Especially if the King was partially responsible for his misery.

So, he smiled at her and she just sighed.

Whatever she had had in mind when she came down here with him was left unsaid.

“Forget it. Would you lend me your dagger?”, she extended her hand, still not looking at him. “Please.” As he obliged, she cut some of the roses off. Arranged them prettily in her arms.

“Please accompany me to my mother’s rooms, after that you can go.”

Cersei’s kiss was delicious, balm to his bruised soul. She was warm and soft underneath his touch, familiar and comforting.

She gasped into his kiss and bit his bottom lip, demanding. Cersei always wanted to lead when they fucked wanted to be in charge and he happily obliged her every time.

Even when she allowed him to be rough with her it was always on her terms and frankly, he loved making her happy.

When she pushed him into her bed and stripped him of greedily and perfect, he was distracted by the intricate black rose blooming on his sister’s right wrist and he watched his own green weed from the corner of his eyes.

Yes, his Soulmark was not even a flower but a fern.

Whoever his intended was, the fact that they didn’t even share a flower-like it was common and known, made him despise them. He was an outcast as it was; a kingslayer, an oath breaker.

He didn’t need them.

He just needed Cersei near him, needed to see his children, and needed to use his sword from time to time to be happy. All the things he had in Kings Landing.

Maybe he would be lucky he thought. Maybe they would find Tyrion’s Soulmate and Father would have no choice as to let him marry and let him settle by the Rock. Gods know, his brother deserved true love more then he and Cersei did.


	2. Brienne I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne hated the city. 
> 
> She hated court.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise!
> 
> I decided that I will publish chapters during the week too, if I finish two chapter early. So, you guys will get at least one chapter per week, but if I have time more. ;)
> 
> (Best girl chapter, here we go!)

Brienne walked off to the throne in this terrible, terrible place. King Rhaegar was said to be a cruel man after one of his wives had died an untimely death and the other was barely seen these days. But he was their king and he had sent to see her.

Brienne of Tarth was not a beautiful maiden. With ten and eight she was still unmarried and that was not from her father’s lack of trying to get rid of her.

She was wearing a pretty, bright blue dress, that had off-shoulder sleeves and pooled fabric at her feet, but Brienne didn’t feel pretty in the dress. She knew she was not pretty- It was told to her often enough and she had seen herself often enough to know.

Tears were stinging in her eyes. She looked ridiculous in the garment. Her proportions all wrong in the fragile feminine style. Her muscles looked all wrong and grotesque like this and her lack of breasts was painfully underlined. Brienne knew that she looked better in leather if she could say so herself, but it was not what society expected her to wear.

Her face was hideous for a woman with a too large mouth and her crooked teeth and nose. Her only saving grace according to her Septa was her big blue eyes. The color of her dress was a vain attempt to show her only good feature.

Angry with her father for bringing her to the capital, she fought the water in her eyes feverishly. He had allowed her to practice with the sword and she had been in the service of Lord Renly, her crush, as a knight. It had been perfect. She had been on the verge of being happy for the first time in her life.

Renly knew about her feelings for him and even though he had his Soulmate in Loras Tyrell, he was never cruel about it. She would go as far as call him her friend. But the dreadful business of Soulmates and Soulmarks was the reason she was here now.

Brienne herself did not believe that the picture imprinted on her right wrist was a hint to find her one true love. Granted it had to do something with the magic that was part of their world and sure, Renly and Loras were happy with each other, but she did not believe in things like true love. And even if they would find the Person who matched her mark, why would they fall in love with her?

The King had sent for all nobles who spotted a Soulmark, her included because he was obsessed with the idea that children of Soulmates were born with magic. His own Soulmark had both matched Elia Martell who bore his first two children and Lyanna Stark who had died bearing the king's youngest.

According to Brienne's father, the king was obsessed with his children being the product of Magic and he wanted to continue this magic by marring them to their Soulmates too. So, here she was because marring his children to their soulmates too was his goal and the Princes and Princess of the realm weren’t supposed to marry commoners.

Bringing every unmarried Nobel with a Soulmark to the capital was his solution. If they find Brienne's Soulmate, they were to marry. (Well, if the pair was not of the same sex. Couples like Loras and Renly were tolerated but not accepted or respected.)

And there were her plans of becoming a knight going. Not that she would ever be knighted in earnest but Renly promised to take her in any way. He was the third son of a great house and Loras was too, so they decided to find their own band of warriors and Brienne had been welcome there.

King Rhaegar seemed so bored when she curtseyed before him insecure and clumsy. She hated court, hated how much she questioned herself around these people. The King seemed to see right thru her, with tired eyes and hard lines in his face. Prince Aegon didn’t even look in her direction. He seemed distant and hollow. Rhaenys smiled at her, pity in her gorgeous face. Brienne hated that. She didn’t want the beautiful princess’s pity. She didn’t want to be here. Jaherys, Jon, tried to smile at her too, but he seemed as awkward as she felt.

The King’s siblings were standing near too, but she could already feel Viserys’ venomous glare and she did not dare to look in his or Princess Daenerys’ direction.

When her sad procession to the royal family was over, she took her place amongst the other young woman that had already greeted them.

Brienne took her place amongst some Frey girls.

After that Asha Greyjoy was presented to the royal family. She seemed as annoyed to be here as Brienne felt too but the Iron born gave their daughters some extent of freedom if they could prove themselves. And Asha was famed to be a great warrior and a better sailor. So, this could potentially ruin her life too.

Lynett Arryn the only daughter of Jon Arryn and Natasha Whent the heir to Harrenhall, joined them too in quick succession.

Margaery Tyrell was next. She was graceful in a way that Brienne never could have been. Her hair was arranged in a complicated bun and her verdant dress was stitched with intricate gold flower details. She was breathtakingly beautiful. And if the way she looked at her, the King seemed to agree. But when she came closer, she saw how tight her corset was laced. Not to mention that she was barely old enough for one.

Sansa Stark followed, her little sister Arya by her arm. The older girl was only thirteen and so much more collected than Brienne. She wore an expensive-looking lace dress. Her sister's only eleven of age was here on her mother’s bidding. It had come to the capital fast that Lord Stark did not want his daughters anywhere near Rhaegar or even married at such a young age.

Brienne could not blame him.

The last girl Brienne actively remembered was Myrcella Baratheon. She was only ten, by far one of the youngest girls here today and she was walking alone. She was beautiful in a golden dress, obviously bought by her mother, but she seemed positively terrified by the royal family and by the King in particular.

After that, the girls were allowed to sit down. Because after the Princesses also joined their ranks. The man that came here to be matched. Unlike before the men were sorted by age and first a very grumpy looking Brynden Tully. Brienne did not know much about him but the tale of how he refused his brother’s attempts to wed him countless times was known around the Kingdoms. He was known as a capable knight too, but the girl was squeezy about one of the young girls, girls really ending up with someone that old.

She was eighteen and the thought made her stomach drop uncomfortable. He could be the kindest man in the world, but he was still older than some of their fathers.

On the same note, Stannis Baratheon glared at every person in the room but did his duty and greeted their king. His wife had died a while ago. Brienne did not know much about their relationship, but she knew that he only had one sickly daughter.

There was whispering with the girls in the front and Brienne cranked her beck to see what they were gushing about. They were fawning over the handsome knight of the Kingsguard that was known as the Kingslayer. Jaime Lannister was good looking, Brienne had to admit. Sure, he was just a few years younger than Stannis, but his golden hair shined in the soft sunlight and he was broad, tall with a jawline to cut and sharp green eyes.

But he was not only one of the most hated men in their realm, but Brienne did not understand how so many women could lust over a man so untrustworthy and dishonorable. He could be the warrior reincarnated, the most beautiful man in the whole world and it would not change his rotten core.

Alone the way he carried himself the moment he noticed the maiden’s attention. His smirk was as handsome as it was arrogant and when some of them blushed a pretty red his winked at them, cocky.

He was a knight in shining white armor and said to be the best swordsman and in another life, Brienne could have seen herself looking up to him, but she could not overlook what he did. She could not ignore the way he barely bowed at their King, the way he spoke to the Princes.

Jaime Lannister was a Kingslayer and Oathbreaker and for a knight, there was nothing worse. Brienne would never be a knight but if this was still one of them, she was not sure if she wanted to be.

Silently she took back what she had thought before Stannis seemed cold but he was said faithful and loyal. And Brynden was even older but a true knight.

Jaime Lannister was the worst man to end up with.

Edmure Tully was a man with sky blue eyes and hair as dark as maple leaves. He seemed nice enough. Tyrion Lannister on the other hand was as condescending as his brother but he seemed aware of the negative murmur that followed him. He was as ugly as his siblings were beautiful.

For a moment Brienne imagined herself married to the Imp.

And the height difference alone would make this a cruel joke.

Viserys was cold when he presented himself to the crowd. Brienne did not know how she should feel about the King's Brother. He looked down on her in the worst way possible. She was not sure what it was about him that made her skin crawl.

Theon Greyjoy was the opposite of his sister. He was a handsome youth around Brienne’s age. He bathed in the attention he was getting. Flirting left and right and the bow he presented the King with was deep and showy. If Asha was iron born true iron than she was not sure Theon was too.

Jon did not want to draw any attention to himself. There was a louder murmur that grew when the younger prince sprinted to his seat. Why didn’t Aegon join them? His cousin Robb Stark was masking insecurity with played confidence but the only other thing Brienne remembered about him was how much he looked like his mother and by extension his uncle Edmure.

The last boy was Joffrey Baratheon. He did nothing like his father either but the way he carried himself was like a worse version of the Kingslayer. If people would not know his name, he could as well have been a Lannister. Nothing in his clothing said Baratheon and even less in his features. It was peculiar.

__

When the official greetings were over the girls and men were guided into two different chambers where they could sit and drink and chat.

Brienne hated occasions like that one. She was rather awkward and stiff in the company of other ladies. She was not good at small talk, she could not sew or embroider properly. Nothing their society valued in girls. So, she kept to herself.

The Frey girls were sitting by themselves drinking sweetened tea, while Margaery Tyrell approached the Stark girls, especially Sansa. (After the Princess asked her to be left alone)

If Brienne was not watching the room, she would have missed eleven-year-old Jeyne Oakheart. The girl was small, delicate as a porcelain doll and her bright eyes watched the other girls insecure. Brienne knew her to be the youngest daughter of House Oakheart.

Eventually, the door opened again and the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard Ser Arthur Dayne, his Grace himself and the Hand of the King, Jon Connington. Ser Connington was carrying a notebook where he was noting down everybody’s soulmark.

They made the girls line up and they would ask them to reveal it, one by one. The King watched silently and disinterested.

Rhaenys was talking and joking with Ser Arthur when it was her turn. The princess seemed as kind as her mother.

When it was young Princess Daenerys' turn, her brother just took one look at her ink, grabbed her arm rougher than it would have been necessary, and yanked her to stay next to Asha Greyjoy. He took her dark cloth off again himself, to reveal the same kind of Bluebell as on the young Princess’s wrist. He let it drop without another word to either girl, but when he turned Brienne could have sworn that he muttered ‘useless’

They were dividing the girls after inspecting their Marks.

Brienne was embarrassed when it was her turn, not only was she the last one to reveal herself. Not only was it pressuring her how annoyed the Hand of the King was looking, but her Mark was not even a flower.

Ser Arthur was smiling at her; his lilac eyes were shining kindly. But Brienne dreaded the three men’s attention their eyes on her ugly body, her misshaped arms. For a moment she struggled with her ribbon. “What is it, girl?”, Connington asked clipped and Brienne felt her cheeks heating. She hated how her neck burned with it.

But the knot would not budge.

“Here, I help you.”

“Can I see the ribbon, Lady Brienne?”

Princess Rhaenys and Sansa were looking at each other for a moment. The Princess’s purple eyes were cringing with laughter making her stunning. Sansa for her part blushed too but it was way more dignified and prettier than Brienne’s. It looked like she had applied color to her face. Charming.

“Go ahead, your highness.”, the girl said with a curtsey, and Rhaenys gifted her another smile.

She then walked up to Brienne and examined her ribbon for a moment before tugging on the fabric and scratching on the edges of the knot. “Hold on.”, she said to Brienne in a gentle tone before shooting Connington a dark look even if the man had not opened his mouth yet.

The princess was, dare she say, adorable looking. Her tongue sticking out between her teeth just a little bit. “Here we go.”

The ribbon fell from her first and the green fern was greeting her. Connington was scribbling something down and ask Rhaenys to take Brienne back to the other girls: Sansa Stark, Margaery Tyrell Lynett Arryn, Roslin Frey, Jeyne Oakheart and Myrcella Baratheon.

“We found a match for you.”, the King announced with a neutral face.

“I want you to go back and enjoy the feast for tonight for you will meet your future husbands tomorrow for breakfast.”


	3. Rhaenys I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Most of those loyalists hated her mother as her grandfather had and she was her mother’s daughter after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a shorter chapter but I thought it is important to flesh out my version of Rhaenys character since she died so early in canon and there is not much to go about.

Ignoring Jon Connington’s glare Rhaenys hurried out of the chamber as fast as she could without actually running the moment they were allowed to. She burned with anger for her father and she was afraid that it would show if she had to stay in the same rooms as him any moment longer.

Rhaenys had learned early that her father did not care for her love or her opinion in general as long as she would not undermine his authority in public and as a dutiful daughter she would never. The people of King’s Landing, especially the Targaryen supporters were already watching her like vultures, waiting for her to make a mistake so they could destroy her.

Most of those loyalists hated her mother as her grandfather had and she was her mother’s daughter after all. There was so little Targaryen in her features she could not make them forget her dornish heritage as Aegon could. So, she had chosen to embrace it years ago.

She knew that they were delighted by the idea of her father marrying her away so Aeg could marry Dany, to have true dragon blood Targaryen again. There was talk of bringing dragons back with just the right kind of magic. And as her Father counted on Soulmate magic to do that somehow, Houses like the Velariyon’s believed in Dragonblood.

Either way. Her father might be an average King who liked to be praised but at least he was not their grandfather. So, she could not fault their people for loving him, but he was an awful father, a worse brother, and a weak head of their family and Rhaenys felt obligated to collect some of the broken pieces he left behind so carelessly.

__

She found Dany easily enough. The young Princess was sitting amongst the dornish lemon trees in one of the royal glasshouses. The air in there was stuffy and hot but it did not bother either girl as it might have other people.

Silent tears were running down Dany’s pale face as she hugged herself tightly. Rhaenys heart stung. Her little aunt deserved something good after years of living with Viserys and Rhaegar. But life and the Gods were hardly ever fair.

She sat next to Dany with a bit of space, just in case she needed it. “Hey, little Dragon.” She said quietly as not to startle her. “How are you?”

Daenerys’ snaped to look at her, violet eyes wide: “How _am_ I?”, she spat back. “ _How am I?_ You saw who apparently my soulmate is, and I am sure you know her reputation! I had hoped I would find someone to marry today. Someone brave and gentle and strong like Jon!”

There was a sob ripping thru her but she was both too angry and heartbroken to allow herself to weep. “As things are known. With my soulmate being a woman, a woman _so much older_ than me. I have to marry my brother!”

Rhaenys wanted to interject but she saw the fire in those lilac eyes and Dany didn’t let her say a word. “Or if they find someone for Viserys and _if_ Rhaegar can make him marry that girl, I will be marrying Aeg. No matter if he wants it or not and then we _both_ will be miserable until the end of days!”

When she was finally finished screaming Rhaenys took her into her arms easily enough. Dany was five years younger and Rhaenys wanted to protect her as much as her own brothers. “Aegon won't marry you if it is making you uncomfortable, you know he loves you and would protect you. Besides, you are too young to get married any time soon and if Father won't see reason, he still has to endure all his children’s complaining.”

A small laugh escaped the younger girl at that and Rhaenys smiled too.

“Besides, we don’t know who of the men have a matching soulmark. We just know that there are eight couples who will be betrothed by the end of all of this.”

“Eight.”, Dany’s snorted, “The faith will not be pleased. That was so close.”, She then directed her swollen eyes to her niece. “If you don’t know yet who of the men will be in the matches, when will you know?”

Rhaenys shrugged. “I guess we will learn during the feast tonight as I am sure no one will keep this information to themselves. And according to Father, we will be breaking fast with our matches tomorrow. Surely not without a chaperone.”

“Oh, that is ought to be awkward.”, Dany grinned, looking at ease the first time since Rhaenys had found her. The older girl feigned helplessness. “If I hate him, will you run away to Dorne with me? I am sure my uncle will hide us for a while if only for my mother’s sake.”

“Sure, at least the fruit down there is delicious and I don’t have to marry Viserys.”

Rhaenys pressed Dany’s hand to her lips. “Are you certain that you don’t wish to speak to Asha Greyjoy? She is your Soulmate after all…” She shook her head so furiously her silver hair bounced with the motion. “ _No._ ”, she said darkly. “There are rumors about her and her conquests. I will not be second or third choice when she is made to marry eventually. And why would she be interested? I'm not even a woman fifteen yet. She is twenty-two.

Besides, _I wanted Jon_. I bet one of the pretty girls is his soulmate. The Tyrell girl or his northern cousin. Or the Baratheon girl….”

Sighing Rhaenys pulled her up. “As you wish but we should go to the feast before father sends Ser Arthur to search for us. I'm sure he has better things to do.”

For a moment Rhaenys let her mind wander to the other maidens that were chosen tonight. She hoped none of them would be marrying Joffrey Baratheon out of all people. He was a boy of thirteen, but he was rotten already. She was not sure what it was about the boy and his mother that made her skin crawl. She knew that Cersei Lannister once wanted to marry her father and become Queen and that her current marriage was not happy, but that was not an excuse for his behavior.

Joffrey acted like the royal children were beneath him, even though they were Princes and Princesses and _older than him_.

She thought about naïve Sansa Stark who still talked about Stories and Songs as if fairytales were true. Maybe men in the north were different. But her father had not done her a favor by keeping her from the south for so long. Someone might take advantage of her trusting nature. The fact that her parents seem to be living a fairytale marriage, did not help. She seemed to be living with the belief that all men were treating their wives honorable.

Brienne of Tarth was only a year younger than her, but just as naïve as the Stark girl, even if she had learned a lesson or two already. She was raised sheltered too and she believed that knights should be gallant and honorably holding up their vows. But not everybody was Arthur Dayne. There was an air of insecurity about her that worried the Princess too. Especially since unlike Sansa Stark and Myrcella Baratheon, Brienne of Tarth was old enough to be married immediately.

Rhaenys took Dany’s little hand. All she could do was wait and see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lowkey of topic but I disagree with grrm when he said Asha is straight. Sure, I only ship her and Dany bc of show interactions, but you can't give me a capable and badass female character with a cool pirate aesthetic and tell me she is cishet.  
> So yes, y’all have to rip sapphic Asha from my cold dead bisexual hands!
> 
> btw I wrote an Asha/Dany ficlet (and other ficlets with gay ships) for pride month this year you can find them on tumblr on my writing blog @hawkeyescoffeewrites if anyone is interested.
> 
> Next chapter will be from Jaime's POV again and I hope I can drop it earlier again.
> 
> Have a good weekend,  
> Aleks


	4. Jaime II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But Cersei always loved to torture him in the sweetest ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I hope you are alright. It is time to sow some drama.  
> Have a great weekend.   
> -Alex

He hated staying here.

But he would also hate returning home.

He hated that they found someone.

And hells, despite everything he hated that he had to leave the Red Keep, leaving Cersei.

His father would be delighted of course but Jaime could not bring himself to care or feel anything but dreed.

The fact that he stood there, still in his white silk tunic, his white cloak, as if he was still a Kingsguard as if him staying a white sword after the failed rebellion and his crimes, did not mean anything. As if the new King was so quick to get rid of him, even after making the controversial decision to keep him alive and essentially unpunished for so long. It didn’t make any sense to him. He felt like a fool.

He watched the girls who had been chosen for this. There were eight couples in total and most of those girls were no were near his age, not to mention that they had found Stannis soulmate and he was even older. And Edmure Tully was also closer to his thirties than twenties. He pitied the poor girls who would marry Viserys or Theon Greyjoy as he doubted, they would care for their wives either. And as little as he cared for Joffrey, he was his mother’s son. With all of Cersei’s bitterness and passion. Who knew what his son would do with the poor girl that would be his wife?

Cersei moved over to him and those dark thoughts vanished. She smiled brilliantly; her body was clad in a tight green dress embroidered with emeralds the color of their eyes. She was breathtaking as usual. Jaime stopped and asked himself how he deserved her love sometimes. But tonight, having her by his side, hurt so much. As he knew he would be forced to marry and leave her behind.

But she put her hand on his chest, looking up to him thru golden eyelashes. “Can I have this dance, brother dear?”

The words came out of her mouth like mockery. He was her favorite brother by far, for a plethora of reasons, but hating Tyrion was probably amongst the first two. He took her hand, nonetheless. He could never deny her, and she knew it all too well.

Putting his arm around her waist and twirling her over the dance floor felt right and wrong all the same. She was so close to him as she should be, but even so, there was a distance in their public interactions that pierced his heart painfully.

He could hold her but only with the distant affection, a brother was supposed to have for a sister. He could not puller her close to him or touch her beautiful face tenderly as she gifted him with a melodic laugh. He could not kiss her wrist out of fear that they might see the adoration and passion in his eyes.

She would test and push the limits because she was brave like him and reckless. They would attend important meetings in matching attire. Were both of them were all red and gold and green. Nothing a White Sword should wear; Nothing a good Baratheon Lady should wear.

She would sit next to him and ignore her husband and he would dance with her and _only with her_. No matter the painful yearning it left him with.

But Cersei always loved to torture him in the sweetest ways.

They took a break soon after because Cersei’s youngest Tommen asked for his mother to tuck him in because Robert Baratheon was already too drunk to attend his children and little Myrcella was only a year older than her brother and overwhelmed with the tasked, had failed to do so.

Cersei looked positively annoyed when the servant broke the news. One glance to her oaf of a husband and the young girl sitting in his lap was all it took to darken her beautiful face. She turned from him without another word.

Jaime sighed and slipped onto a seat opposite of Tyrion. His brother cheered to him with a cup of sweet wine. “I would ask you to toast to my freedom with me- and for my life, I suppose, as I am afraid Father would have found a way to kill me before allowing me to inherit his legacy.”

The words came out deliberately light, but Jaime knew his little brother well enough to hear the bitterness beneath the joke. He sighed and rubbed his face, stressed. He had no patience for Tyrion’s feud with their father when he himself would have loved to brood over his own situation.

Keen mismatched eyes were fixed on him and Jaime was amazed at Tyrion’s ability to keep his mind relatively clear after he was drinking so heavily already, but he supposed it was the force of habit.

“Jaime.” He still refused to look at Tyrion, now that Cersei was gone there was only emptiness. “This will be your wedding not your funeral.”, he said sternly. “You will probably marry a beautiful young girl and all father wants from you is put a babe in her belly.” He swirled with the wine in the hand. “There are far worse faiths.”

He swallowed a snippy reply. Tyrion was not the target of his anger and he knew the youngest Lannister had always yearned to be loved. In another life, he would have found a girl tonight and everything would have been well, at least for the siblings. His father would have raged.

“Tyrion. I don’t want to marry anyone.”, a half-truth. If he could, he would marry Cersei in a heartbeat. “Especially a girl that might as well be young enough to be my daughter.”

“Not all of them are that young.”, Tyrion grinned, knowing full well that this was not his point. “The Arryn girl is in her twenties. And the Princess and the tall girl from Tarth are of age and well, I mean sure you could have fathered them but-“

“Tyrion.”

“Most of them are beautiful. Have you seen the Tyrell girl’s neck? And the older Stark girl? She will be more beautiful than her mother when you give her a few more years. To say that the Princess is stunning is an understatement and the Frey girl is pretty if a bit plain-“

“Tyrion-“

“I understand that you might feel weird about Myrcella being there, she is our niece after all-“

“Tyrion!”

The young man stopped. A sheepish smile on his lips.

“It’s not only the marriage part and _you know that_. Do I look to you like I can rule a keep? An important and big one like Casterly Rock at that? I am shit at politics; you know that. Father knows that.” He grabbed a cup of dark ale of a serving girl and drowned it. “I don’t want any of it. I am no Lord. I am a warrior. I mean-“, he waved his hand in emphasis. “Look at Robert!”

“Well if we measure like this none of us should have the Rock.”, Tyrion shrugged, and he was very right if you asked Jaime. (But no one ever asked him.) “You should just enjoy the day and maybe Father will give you more leeway when you finally become his heir again.” He swallowed. “And give him Lannister grandchildren. He seems to not care much for our sister’s children.”

Jaime shifted in his seat for a bit. “Cersei’s children.”, _my children_ , “are Baratheon’s. They could never be Lannisters of the Rock.” Not even that I sired them changes that. He hardly treated the children well as an uncle, he was definitely no father. Cersei had wanted children and he was ready to give her those before she would go to another man, but he never cared much for them beyond that.

“Cersei would have loved to be the ruler and wardness of the West. But that will never happen. Father never trusted much in her intellect.”

“Don’t we all have our shortcomings?”, Tyrion finished his wine and stood Jaime watched him and wondered how many bad words about Cersei he had washed down just to end this conversation. “Find a nice girl for tonight before you have to get married eventually. Take this finite window of opportunity between celibacy and marriage.”

Jaime almost snorted into his fresh cup as his brother made his way over to a pretty servant girl. The whole situation was ridiculous. No matter who would be chosen for him, his Father would make him marry her.

Cersei did not come back for him and with every moment he waited alone, his mood grew darker.

He looked over the room. Many of the King’s guests had left already. Rhaegar had left swiftly, staying just long enough to make the impression of curtesy. Elia was not even able to attend and her husband did not care to even mention her. The only upside of this whole marriage ordeal was that he didn’t have to protect Rhaegar anymore.

In a corner, Robb Stark and Theon Greyjoy were conversing with Jon. Which would have been a mild surprise if Jaime cared enough. He did not think the young Prince would care for the cocky Greyjoy heir, but what did he know about the children? He did not spot Rhaenys nor Aegon anywhere.

Furthermore, he could see Stannis trying to convince a very drunk Robert to retire, without company. But he was not really successful or in the mood to endure more of this drunken nonsense. Renly for his part was sniggering away at those efforts. He sat a table behind them with the knight of flowers, his sister, and the tall girl. Brienne _the Beauty_.

Jaime had heard the whispers about the girl. He felt humiliated by this situation, but he won’t be the only one. Another father pressuring his child into expectations and ridicule.

The back fish was sitting at a table, drinking and laughing with some of his fellow rivermen. He was being spared by Rhaegar’s delusions of grandeur. And Jaime remembered his brief time in Riverrun a bit fondly, even if it was just for the old man’s tales.

Back then his father wanted to betroth him to Lysa Tully and he in turn decided to join the Kingsguard for Cersei, who back then was convinced she was to marry Rhaegar. It did work out for them in the end, but maybe they should have planned it out better. He never regretted his decision though. Lysa Tully had been a dull girl and she grew into a bitter woman as far as he could tell.

Instead of joining anyone, Jaime decided to look for Cersei. Maybe she expected him to find her.

The keep laid mostly dark as he made it to the chambers his sister was to share with her husband. The guard was sleeping in front of it, reeking of alcohol and Jaime rolled his eyes. Because really? But when he opened the door a crack, he just found a snoring Robert and a cold room. (he did not even register that Stannis had brought him back here.)

Next, he went to the children’s rooms. Joffrey was sleeping. Like this, he almost looked innocent. Jaime did not understand why Cersei would sleep in the same room as Robert just so her eldest could have his own bedroom. She hated that man. Why couldn’t Joffrey sleep in the same room as the other two brats?

Speaking of: Tommen and Myrcella were cramped into the same bed, holding onto each other. Whatever nightmare the younger boy had; his sister made sure he didn’t have to face it alone. But Cersei was not with them anymore. (If she ever arrived with them.) The other bed stood cold and abandoned.

Annoyance crept into his veins. Jaime would be married and sent away in the next few days. All the Lannister siblings knew that their Father would not waste a single minute to secure his succession. Cersei didn’t seem to care that they would be separated so soon.

His heart clenched in desperation and there had not been many times when Jaime felt like an afterthought to Cersei. Normally she would accommodate his emotional needs at least a bit because she loved him. He _knew_ that she loved him.

He was on his way to leave the main building to walk to his own cell when he was stopped dead in his tracks.

In one of the many courtyards, he found Cersei. Her hair was falling out of her elaborate braid and framing her pretty face. In the flickering of the torchlight, her eyes were wildfire. She was standing next to Rhaegar, giving the King her undivided attention.

It was as if he was drowning. Jaime had to remind himself that he needed to breathe, even when icy dread pressured his lungs shut. Anger spread thru his body like a hot poison, making him want to get over there and make his fist meet the King’s face.

But he did not move into their direction. He watched as Cersei’s finger caressed the man’s arm, slow and seductive.

Rhaegar had never been interested in his sister, Cersei on the other hand…

He turned and made it to the White Sword Tower, for maybe the last time in his life.


	5. Brienne II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime Lannister was probably the last person she wanted to marry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all. Are you ready for some Braime interactions?   
> Have a good weekend and enjoy~~

Brienne was sitting in the nice room the King’s servants had guided her to. She wore a dress as splendid as the one from last night, heavily embroidered with the colors of her house.

She was nervous, to say the least. She knew what people thought about her appearance and her interest in knighthood.

She thought about the men that could be behind that door. Heirs of Great Houses, men closer to her father’s age than hers or boys not even fully grown.

Stannis Baratheon was said to be a cold and dutiful man. Yesterday in the cheering midst of the feast she had watched him a bit. The only information she had about him came from Renly who did not hide the fact that he did not understand his brother. Stannis sat with other nobles from the Stormlands, but even though he sat with his brother Robert in the center of attention he had been oddly dejected from the happenings around him.

She was not sure what she felt at the thought of marrying him, but he would do his duty to her at the very least as she would do hers and wedding him would let her stay in the Stormlands, close to her home.

Jaime Lannister was probably the last person she wanted to marry.

Frankly, she had little respect for the man that broke his vows so easily and stabbed the man he was sworn to protect in the back. She had seen him before yesterday from time to time. At the few tourneys, her father had taken her to. The tall Kingsguard with his golden hair and golden armor, acting like everyone else was beneath him.

A lion amongst the sheep.

She had watched him too. How he had danced with the beautiful sister of his that looked so much like him. Cersei Lannister was everything Brienne was not. Beautiful, graceful, and successful. Powerful. As Powerful as a woman could be in their society. Except for maybe the Queen herself would have, if she was healthier. Brienne had watched them fly over the dancefloor, smiling, chatting, and giggling amongst themselves.

Two things: Brienne could not see herself dance like this. Let alone being the center of attention at a grand royal feast like this. Second: There was a wistful pain tugging at her heart, wishing her siblings might have lived so she could have known what it felt like to have a bond like this.

Edmure Tully had spent the entire time with his sisters and their families yesterday, catching up and being an uncle to the Stark children. She did not know much about him, but she could not imagine that he desired to marry her out of all the maidens.

And Theon Greyjoy was a womanizer, evidently so. She heard of a bastard girl he had up north. Granted there were rumors that the iron islands were a bit more liberal in their views and treatment of women. At least they seem to respect the ones that could hold their ground in a fight.

Jon and Robb were younger than her and while the young prince seemed to a nice boy, the thought of being related to the royal family and having to attend every big event to be humiliated over and over again made her sick. On that note, Viserys Targaryen seemed to loath her.

Robb Stark seemed nice too and she would have liked to be his friend, but she feared that she would make his life miserable. The only positive was that she would never have to leave the north if she did not want to. The Starks were known to keep to themselves.

(She didn’t even want to think about her liege Lords son, Joffrey Brartheon.)

The door opened and Ser Arthur Dayne walked in gifting her a polite smile. Brienne managed to reciprocate it, while her stomach swooped nervously. Ser Arthur was wearing a nice silk tunic, glittering in pure white.

He moved aside to revile Jaime fucking Lannister behind him. The second knight just ducked into the room and froze into the frame.

Brienne’s heart stopped in that horrifying moment and a voice in the back of her head hopped for a second that she might have a legit heart attack because that would mean she could avoid the situation.

For his part, Jaime Lannister blinked at her and raising his golden eyebrows. It would have been funny to see him caught so off guard, if she didn’t feel exactly like he looked. Unable to do anything else they stared at each other for what felt like an eternity.

“This must be a mistake.”, Lannister broke their eye contact and addressed Dayne like she was not even in the room. A sick feeling settled deep into Brienne’s stomach, as she stared at the table before her. Of course, she was being rejected. She had already settled with the thought. She just didn’t want to live thru the humiliation that came with this. Jaime Lannister, kingslayer, one of the most hated men in Westeros would rather continue to work for the family he betrayed than marry someone ugly like her.

“Jaime.”, Arthur Dayne’s tone was sharp. A low warning. Brienne balled the fabric of her dress into her fists. Jaime Lannister would maybe make a minimal effort to be polite to her and then manage to weasel himself out of this insanity with ease. His father was one of the most powerful men in the whole country, of course, the King would not deny him. And Brienne? She would have to go back to her father in shame because no one, _really no one_ would ever want her—

All the happiness she had felt yesterday, spending her time with Renly and the Tyrells, left her body like a dying breath.

Lannister eyed her again. His stunning green eyes were cold. Eventually, he sat down opposite her. “Lady Brienne.”, he lowered his head a little. She took a deep breath and detangled her fingers from the soft fabric. Schooling her features into something neutral, she looked up to him. “Ser.” She would not show him more kindness than he deserved. She would not humiliate herself by searching for approval from this man or his family.

A sigh from the corner where Arthur Dayne was seated between them. “I trust you had a good time yesterday.”, he started. “You are aware that you will be presented to the court as a match this evening. The King hopes that you will take the time this morning to get to know your future spouse a bit.”

“Thank you, Ser.”, Brienne smiled at him again. Arthur Dayne was one of her role models. A true knight. “I enjoyed the feast and the company very much.”

After that, no one said a thing anymore.

As the silence grew thick, Brienne already rehearsed what she would tell her father that noon. He was busy all morning negotiating trading routes with Robert Baratheon, so she had a bit of time before confronting the issue. Ser Arthur sighed again and called for a servant girl to bring in breakfast. The short, delicate girl shot both knights a flirtatious look before vanishing.

Brienne’s stomach turned again uncomfortably. Even to this woman, her supposed betrothal was a joke. How would the court react when they found out? She did not need any of that. She-

The girl came back with some other servants, setting their table. Still, no one said a single word.

The food smelled delicious and in any other situation Brienne would have loved to dig in but now it made her sick. It felt like she could vomit her entire intestines into the Lannister heir’s face any moment now.

They were served fresh bread, bacon, cheese, neatly cut fruit, hot tea.

Staring blankly at a point behind the Kingslayer, Brienne tried to ignore the food and her own anxiety. Jaime Lannister was eating his food if only sporadic. Ser Arthur was watching them with a worried expression, she felt his eyes on her, but she would not give in.

It was one thing to make them sit here together or make them take vows in a sept, but Brienne would use every tool of resistance she had to her disposal. If Lannister would not talk to her, she would not start that conversation. It was that easy.

“You seem to be very close to Renly Baratheon, _my Lady_.”

Brienne took her fork and inspected the cheese on her plate. She did not have to look up to know that Lannister was fixing her with an arrogant gaze, she felt his eyes on her skin. Uncomfortable so. “Yes, _ser_.”, she pronounced the word ser with the same brand of mockery he had used for Lady.

Brienne knew she was not a Lady.

But Jaime Lannister was not a Knight in any way that mattered.

“Renly and Ser Loras are friends of mine.” Brienne was not stupid. Lannister was not the first man that implied that she was romantically or _sexually_ involved with her friend. The last thought still bought a speck of pink dust to her ears. It was so embarrassing. Renly would never dishonor her like that. (Even if he was interested in women or her in that way.) She knew that and that was enough.

“Friends?”, she hated the tone of his voice.

There was hot anger rushing thru her veins and she clutched at her cutlery in a pathetic attempt to ground herself. She hated the man in front of her, but she also had a duty to her house and her father, that she needed to fulfill. She could not effort to be too rude. No matter how much he rubbed her the wrong way.

“Yes, ser.”, She took a deep breath and put a smile on her face that felt awkward on her too-big lips, but she looked him in his green eyes, nonetheless. “Don’t you have friends, that are dear to you?” She made the question sound more innocent than it was intended to be. Sure, she knew that she sounded defensive over the men and her relationship to them but there was a part of her that was oddly curious. Yesterday Lannister had only interacted with his siblings. Did he have friends?

She watched him lose his mocking grin for a moment. His eyes grew as hard as emeralds. For a moment she had time to trace his sharp jawline with her gaze, his cheekbones. _He was handsome_ , a small treacherous voice whispered in the back of her head. It was the part of her that had believed in stories and songs as a child. The part of her that still hoped she could share love with a man equally someday.

Brienne watched Jaime Lannister’s pretty features the ones he shared with his sister, grow cold and hard and distant. Whatever amusement he had taken out of teasing her, vanished. Suddenly he just looked cruel.

“What would you know about friendship?”, he asked sharply. It was enough to make the hairs on her neck stand in a shudder. “As far as I know you are the laughingstock of your people. An ugly maid that plays at being a knight and running after a man that will never love you the way you loved him.”

She felt her bottom lip quiver but she bit down on it stubbornly, not ready to give in to defeat like this. “You are a child.”, he carried on. “You have never seen battle or had to make difficult decisions. You judge me for my crimes without knowing me or the man I killed that day. Tell me, _my Lady_ , how many knights do you know? And how many of them have every really held up their damned vows…”

He still looked directly into her eyes and she was unable to break eye contact, too enchanted by cold green eyes. “Who said I give a shit about the King’s orders to marry you? Who says I want to marry at all? Who says you are the only one that would be miserable?”

“Jaime, please-“, Ser Arthur pleaded, but there was pity in his voice. Pity Brienne could not stand to hear. She was not weak for wanting to be happy. She-

She lowered her gaze, letting her fork hit the plate with a clattering sound, stood, curtsied blind and clumsy to Ser Dayne, and left the room as fast as she could without running. Tears were starting to sting in her eyes, treating to betray how much his words had hurt her.

Jaime Lannister finished his meal with cold indifference.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, Jaime is being his asshole self :(


	6. Brienne III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Green eyes.
> 
> Loras eye color was so similar and so different from Jaime Lannisters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! Here we go again and it is time for some bonding

She ran.

She did not care that people were starring she just needed to get away, get out of this dress, and into her leathers to feel a little bit of comfort.

Carefully she breathed thru her mouth so her tears would not spill before she made it to the safety of her chambers.

A few servants called out to her, asking if they could help her, but Brienne did not answer, only hearing the blood rush in her skull. When she could finally slam her door behind her, startling a poor guard of her father’s.

Pressing herself against the cool wood, Brienne tried to regulate her breathing and her swimming mind by concentrating on the clipped rise and fall of her chest. With her rough palms, she smoothed out her own face, and the hot tears now falling freely.

A last shuddering inhale, she kicked up from the door and pushed a heavy wardrobe chest in front of it for a bit of privacy since she did get one of the rooms that could not be locked. At first, she had not cared that much. The castle was full of nobles and Brienne was the daughter of a small lord with a small territory, it was natural that she would end up in a simpler room than other Ladies. Now she desperately wished for a lock.

When she was satisfied with her barring she pulled at the lacing of her damned corset. Her fingers were too big and clumsy for the fine strings and the frustration and trapped feeling brought new tears to her eyes.

She didn’t even know why she was reacting so harshly to the things Jaime Lannister had said to her. She was not the first man to joke about her naivety. Not the first to imply that she was not a maiden anymore or that Renly or Loras or both had taken her maidenhead. He was not the first to mock her appearance or her dreams, but she hadn’t had a breakdown like this in months, possibly years.

Maybe it was the fact that she would be forced to marry Jaime Lannister. A situation that gave this cruel stranger power over her and her body. It frightened her out of her mind and only now had the time to realize the gravity of the situation she was in.

Finally, she loosened her corset enough to rip it from her body. She rubbed her aching rips and again did her best to control her stupid tears. She ruffled thru her hair and rubbed her cheeks again, as she stepped out of her pretty shoes. With more sure hands Brienne opened her dress and let it pool at her ankles.

Then she pulled out a white shirt, that was wide enough to make her figure more obscure, the long sleeves hiding her Soulmark again. The damned fern leaf, in nice dark green that tethered her to the kingslayer.

Shoving the thought away and covering the fern up she moved to put on a pair of short braies, to then put on a pair of thick socks and finally a nice pair of riding breeches. Brienne shoved her shirt into the pant, making the white fabric puff up some more and hiding her womanly form some more.

A pair of leather boots and the young girl felt better, already.

She washed her hands and face in the cold water of her bedside basin. It cooled her swelling red eyes and trickled nicely down onto dry lips. She brushed some of it thru her fine blond locks, effectively slicking it back. Lastly, she put on some soft leather gloves. A gift from both Renly and Loras. She smiled down at them for a moment. Fuck the Kingslayer. She loved her friends.

As she debarred her door again and stepped out Alick shoot her a concerned look and she tried to smile at him somewhat reassuring. He was not exactly a friend but the young man was a bit older than her and had lived in her father’s keep as long as she could remember. He was stationed to guard her often and she could talk to him from time to time.

He did not say a thing as she walked by him to go find someone.

Someone that was not Jaime Lannister.

A few minutes later she found Loras in one of the many training yards, hitting a training puppet repeatedly. His form was swift and graceful like always. Brienne watched his dulled training blade hit the straw in all the right places. To other people watching the knight of flowers, it must look masterful as always, but Brienne knew the man. She spotted the tension in his shoulders that made his movement less fluent and more prone to an attack. A mistake he usually would not make.

She let her eyes move over the few servants and maidens of lesser houses who watched the handsome young knight with admiration and longing in their eyes. She wanted to roll her eyes. It was no fucking secret that he was in a committed relationship, but since he could still be made to marry a girl no one really seemed to care.

“Loras.”, she stepped into the light and his line of vision. Light brown locks were clinging to his sweaty forehead and his linen shirt had the first few buttons undone, exposing smooth glittering skin. That would explain the blushing maidens. Green eyes soften when he saw her but there was still a brooding storm of bad mood underneath it.

Green eyes.

Loras eye color was so similar and so different from Jaime Lannisters.

Her friend’s eyes were a softer color, the color of young leaves, or the same hue as the sea on a sunny day depending on how the light hit them. Jaime Lannister’s eyes were hard and dangerously deep green, like jewelry like wildfire ready to burn whoever offended him. But she did not want to think about her soulmate right now.

“Are you alright?” A stupid question. Brienne knew he was not alright and Loras knew that she could read him like that. Still, he lowered the training sword and took a deep breath. “Marge.”, he mumbled. “She just came back from her breakfast.” He studied her face and raised a questioning eyebrow, but Brienne just shook her head.

She was not in the mood to talk about her morning.

He released a breath that could have been a bitter laugh. “That bad?” He tossed her a second sword that she caught easily. The weight in her hand was a familiar comfort. Brienne felt the eyes of the other girls on her and she heard the whispers. There were always whispers. Ignoring them, she got into a fighting stance.

“That bad.”, Loras answered his own question as he started to circle her in lazy steps, swirling his own sword. “Who will Lady Margaery marry?”, she asked following him with hawk’s eyes. “Viserys…” The murmur around them increased. Brienne had to take a breath as to not look behind her and keep her attention on Loras.

He swiped at her and she parried easily. Loras was playing with her, focusing more on their conversation. “Don’t worry. Marge is already discussing these things with father and grandmother. The king knows anyway and it is ought to be talked about before the ball this evening.”

Another swipe at her and she dodged. “I just wish… He is not a good man and I know that she made her peace with that. With the fact that would not marry for love but for our family’s ambitions.” This time Brienne took a quick glance at the little crowd. They were still listening. She was very sure that he should not talk about things like this so publicly.

The moment of insecurity was punished as cold steel connected with her shoulder. The pain stung and she turned only to be met by a grinning knight. “Concentrate, my Lady. Usually, you are the one who hands me my ass all the time.”

“Shut up,” she growled without real malice. Rubbing the offending bone. They traded blows again, now a tat more serious than before as the silence stretched between them. Brienne should have really worn protective gear (and Loras too) as she felt blue and purple bruises bloom on her skin. After a while, Brienne had her dull blade to Loras throat. He smiled at her and patted her shoulder.

When she had bested him the first time a year or two back, Loras had been deeply offended, not speaking to her in weeks and complaining to Renly about her. Nowadays he appreciated her company in the training yard and enjoyed every instance when he could still teach her a thing or two. They had grown closer.

“Who is it?”, his voice was low now that she was close to him. First Brienne wanted to call him off but she saw the concern in his face and sighed. “I won’t tell anybody… Except for Renly of course.” After a moment she tapped the golden threads of embroidery in his tunic. (Who wore such fine clothes to training except for Loras?”)

His brows pulled together and he tilted his head questioning as she moved away from his personal space. It was almost endearing. Forcing herself into a wider stance. After a moment understanding crossed her friend's face and Brienne rubbed her face again, irritated.

“No…”

“I am afraid so…”

“If you want to run away anytime soon?”, he made a vague hand gesture, smiling at her again, a bit more cautious this time. The brilliant smile that made maidens blush. Brienne just rolled her eyes. “And who is going to tell my father?” He shrugged. “Marge would volunteer probably. When you, Renly, and I are already leagues away.”

Brienne did not want to think about any of this anymore. She twisted her sword arm’s wrist to loosen it and Loras got into a defensive stance. But before they could make another move.

“Lady Brienne! Lady Brienne! Your father wishes to see you.”

__

She sat in her Father’s solar. A cramped and stale room in the Red Keep. Lord Selwyn watched his daughter and heir with tired eyes. “Jaime Lannister out of all people?”, he asked to no one in particular. Brienne stayed silent.

It was not her fault after all. Whatever power in their universe was responsible for those so-called Soulmarks were to blame for her miserable future. A part of her wanted to agree to Loras half-joked offer and run away from this hectic and awful court with an indifferent king.

Her father dragged a hand over his face and walked around the table to kneel next to Brienne’s chair, taking her hands into his. Brienne just watched as his soft dumb caressed her skin. “I want you to be happy.”, his voice was low, hoarse. “You are my heir and only child, my only _living_ child. After I realized how unhappy you have been I wanted to give you the tools to feel more content in your role. I-“

A sigh: “I had hoped that you might marry soon, but not someone so much older than you and not someone like the Kingslayer. I-“ He searched for her gaze again. His lips folded downwards. “But we cannot refuse the King. We cannot refuse Tywin Lannister and the opportunity this gives us for Tarth- “

Brienne pulled her hands out of his grip, looking away, not seeing the flash of hurt in his features. “I understand, Father.” She was not lying. She was not. In the end, she knew what was required of her and he was right, relations to the Lannister’s would open her home up to more prosperity. She knew all of that.

But there was a part of her that wanted to be selfish. Just this once. Just one time more that she could refuse. This time it is different in so many ways. Would the King even listen to her if she would plead for her honor? Would the political scandal following ruin her?

“Why did Lord Lannister even agree?”, Suddenly Brienne snapped out of her inner monologue. “He must be appalled by the idea of his son and heir marrying me-“ “Brienne-“, she ignored Selwyn’s objection. “We are an old but powerless house. And I’m the mockery of the Stormlands. Not a beautiful maid, a man like that would make an exception for- So, why?”

“The King only agreed to free Ser Jaime from his vows of the Kingsguard if he marries his soulmate and only his soulmate. That is why he was still wearing his white cloak because he technically is still a white sword.”

“He hates Tyrion more than me as a good daughter?”

The way Tywin Lannister treated his youngest was no secret. And well officially the imp had been the heir to Casterly Rock since Jaime Lannister became a Kingsguard.

“He wants you to marry his son tomorrow afternoon, a small ceremony in the Keeps Sept, and a feast with assorted guests afterward.”

Brienne starred at her father as if she waited for him to say that he was kidding. Tomorrow? She would marry Jaime Lannister tomorrow…

“Lord Tywin did already arrange an army of tailors and ladies to sew your dress and your maiden cloak. He doesn’t seem to want anything in return, except his son’s freedom and heirs. He also wants you and Jaime to leave for the Westerlands after your wedding night.”

It felt like she could not breathe like she would have a heart attack in earnest this time. Her wedding night with Jaime Lannister. She shook her head and willed that kind of thinking out of her head. “What about Tarth?”, there was panic lacing her voice. The panic she did not realize she was feeling until she heard herself speak with so much desperation. “What about my things…?”

“Lord Tywin offered to send for things you might want to have from Evenfall. But he insisted that you and his son would stay in Casterly Rock for a few months first. For you to get accustomed to and-“

A whole new form of fear tightened her throat. She would be Lady Lannister and she would be expected to manage a big keep like that. That was no way to compare it to the things she did at home where she didn’t manage Evenfall by herself anyway. This was so much bigger than she could bear.

“What about you, Father? You will be all alone.” He kissed her hands with a weak smile. “How lucky I am to have a gentle daughter who cares about her old father’s loneliness. I will be alright, child.”

She did not believe him.


	7. Robb I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Myrcella is nice.”, he started carefully. The had met the Baratheon children one or two times before on the rare occasion their father’s old friend Robert would visit them in Winterfell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello.   
> It's like 10:30 p.m. here and I was lowkey stressed all day, but I had a run, y'all. Don’t get used to it lol  
> I call this chapter Robb is being stupid.  
> Enjoy

Robb had no idea how to feel.

He just came back from meeting his soulmate. Now he was sitting in a reading room with his siblings. The ones that had come with him and his parents anyway. (And Theon of course). Sansa was sitting on the floor before the cold fireplace, concentrating on an especially complicated embroidery technique.

She had not talked about her morning yet. As a matter of fact, she was uncharacteristically quiet and Robb slowly started to worry about her. Their parents were off to discuss the parameters of their engagements with the King and then Robert Baratheon.

Theon on the other hand had not stopped to talk about Princess Rhaenys. He was borderline disrespectful from time to time in a fashion that made Robb uncomfortable. He did not know cousin Jon that well yet, but it had taken a lot to make him thaw up to Theon the day before. He was almost certain that the other boy would not let this kind of behavior slide when it came to his sister.

Betrothal or not.

“With a Stone Wife in like that I would almost be declined to not take a Salt Wife but you know-“ Sansa gasped scandalized and whipped around to glare at her foster brother, while Arya took a more hands-on approach and hurled her work, needle and all at Theon with a high pitched: “Shut up!”

Greyjoy just sniggered at them and Robb sighed. Arya glared at them. “The Princess is way too good for you!” Sansa for once did not chastise her little sister but seem to agree with her. “She is everything a good Lady should be and so much more!”, she added. “Yes, for example, I am sure she could kick your ass without her brothers help.”, Arya added somewhat helpful.

It was well known that Rhaenys had spent some time in Dorne with her Uncles and Cousins and it was whispered that she had trained with Oberyn Martell and his bastards in the art of dornish combat. A quality that made Arya almost worship her.

Theon rolled his eyes. “Yeah as if I let a girl beat me.” Sansa stopped her work once more and fixed him. “Your sister defeated you yesterday.”, she said deliberately neutral but all color left Theon’s face. Robb had to suppress a smile. Sansa had a sharp tongue on the occasion she spoke her honest mind.

For a while, it was silent between them, while Theon brooded over his fight with Asha yesterday. She had handed him his ass in under ten minutes in front of their fellow ironborn and Robb could not imagine something more humiliating. But Asha Greyjoy was known to command a ship, maybe Theon should have respected the sister he hardly knew. Not every girl was as feminine as Sansa.

“What about you Daisy boy?”, Theon asked him after a while, grin back on his lips. Robb suppressed a sigh. Sansa watched him now too, her needlework laying forgotten beside her. Robb fiddled with the book in his hand that he had not paid attention to a while now, but it was a good enough excuse to buy some time.

“Myrcella is nice.”, he started carefully. The had met the Baratheon children one or two times before on the rare occasion their father’s old friend Robert would visit them in Winterfell. Sansa had an infatuation with Joffrey since they both had been ten years old, a notion the prick of an heir never fully reciprocated to Robb’s relief and Sansa’s initial dismay. The youngest, Tommen, was also very polite and soft-spoken. And the only thing Robb really knew about him was his love for cats.

Myrcella never left a lasting impression on Robb. She was a year younger than Arya and usually spent most of her time with Sansa. She was a gentle soul with an ear for songs and stories just like Sansa had had at this age. But that was it. She was pretty he supposed but she was _so young_. He had no idea how to process the fact that he was betrothed to her. A girl that was younger than his baby sister.

“You are lucky.”, Theon declared obviously not really wanting to hear his opinion. “Not only will you be unmarried for at least seven more years, free to do as you please.” Robb glared but he could not keep the color from his face. He had visited the brothel in Wintertown a single time and never again after seeing his mother’s face when he had returned. “But when you finally marry her you have such a young and beautiful wife. Look at her mother and you see how _inviting_ she will be in a few years-“

“Theon, please! She is _nine_!”

He sounded hysterical. He knew that he sounded hysterical, but what was he to do? Sure, Theon was probably kidding but Myrcella was a child and he-

“Well, almost ten.”

“Theon, stop.”, Sansa seemed positively annoyed now. The oldest boy huffed. “Fine. I’m sorry. What about your match, little wolf?” She frowned at them and then sighed, fumbling with a strand of copper hair. Robb smiled at her. They were a lot alike, he noted sometimes.

“Prince Jahaerys is most gracious.”, she said with a porcelain face.

“Sansa, Jon does not like his Targaryen name and he is our cousin.”

She sighed again and picked her needlework up again. That was the end of the conversation. Theon frowned at all of them, squirming in his seat. Robb was done and got up as his siblings watched him. “I will get some fresh air-“

“I’ll accompany you.”, Sansa was up in an instant and Robb offered her his arm with little resistance. Whatever was up with Jon and her, was something she didn’t want to discuss with the others there. “Hey!”, Arya screamed. “You can’t leave me alone with Theon.”

“Is the work that mother assigned you done?”

The younger Stark girl gazed down at her mess of yarn and needles, that Theon had sent back to her. “No…”

Without another word, Sansa turned to the door and Robb sent an apologetic smile to Arya before being pulled thru the door.

“That was kind of mean.”, he pointed out. Sansa frowned at him. “ _It is true._ You and Father always way to soft with her.” He wanted to protest but she would not let him. “I’m not trying to be mean.” A helpless gesture. “but imagine it was Arya who got engaged today. She has no idea what she would have to do as a lady. She skips lessons and barely remembers how a keep is run because she thinks Mother’s work is boring. I don’t want her to be alone and hated in someone else’s home because she can’t do what society expects of her. She is my sister. I love her! I just want her to be alright.”

Robb kissed the top of her head with a sad smile. “You are a great older sister.”, he said and Sansa just sighed. “Do you want to talk about Jon?”, he tried carefully as they made their way to one of the gardens the Red Keep housed.

Sansa did not answer him right away. First, she let her blue eyes roam over big patches of sweet-smelling blooms. Robb did not press the issue. Since Joffrey… his sister was different. There were moments and glints of the girl he had played with, but she was so much more careful and protective over all of them. It worried him sometimes.

“Robb. I like Jon. He is nice. He is- _I like him_.” She stopped herself from rambling. “But you see the way Father looks at him. You just-“

“All he would bring to this family is the ghost of aunt Lyanna and all the hurt her and the King’s decision brought our family. It is not his vault of course it is not, but I don’t want him to- I want to protect Father.”

She took an especially pink flower between her fingertips, caressing the delicate petals. “Sansa. Father is a grown man-“ “And it is not only that. He looks so much like Father. It is unsettling.” Another pause. “I don’t want to be here at court after we are wed, where Joffrey is-“

Robb looked at her, sadness in his light blue eyes. There it was. The real core of the problem was this boy. Something Robb had been not able to prevent. Something that had scarred his sweet sister for life.

“Sansa.”, he reached for her in an effort to reassure her. She had been his first baby sibling. The first one he had sworn to protect. And he had not been able too. Before Baby Rickon and Bran and Arya, he had gotten to hold Sansa. He had been only three and disappointed by the screaming gremlin that a newborn was, but he had loved her instantly-

She shocks her head moving away, creating space between them. “I’m fine.” She was obviously not. “Lady Sansa.” Robb whipped around just to be confronted with a smiling Princess. Rhaenys was wearing a smooth dornish-style dress and beaming at them. “Robb.”

Sansa recovered faster than him, startled out of their little bubble. None of them had noticed the surroundings and the people visiting the garden. His sister fell into a deep courtesy and Robb followed suit after a second or two.

There was a small basket in her hand filled with different colored flowers. “No need to be this formal.”, her dark purple eyes flickered between them. “We will be family soon.”, the last words were lighthearted, and she addressed Sansa. “Not that Jon isn’t already part of your family. But this will bring us all closer.”

Robb nodded and ignored the way Rhaenys was taller than him, how her skin glowed in the noon sun, how her thick hair fell in soft curls, effortlessly. “Are you interested in the Camellia flowers?”, the princess asked Sansa who was still standing next to the flower bed. “Your Highness, I-“ The Princess waved her off easily and handed her a clip tool. “You can help yourself for a flower or two if you would be so kind to cut a few for my mother’s room as well.” Another easy smile. “And please it is Rhaenys. At least when we are alone.”

Robb stayed where he was and watched his sister cut the flowers with care. Pink Camellia. “How do you like the Capital, Robb?” The small pause before he answered was embarrassing but he had been way too caught up in his thoughts. “It is big.”, he said with a sheepish grin, that was matched. How could he ever imagine that talking to a royal princess would be so easy? She chuckled. “Why am I sure Jon would say exactly the same…”

He raised a brow: “Your Highness-“, he cut himself off. “Rhaenys, why would you say that?” She rolled her eyes. He found it incredibly charming. “He is a Stark in all but name, you know? Something that had always annoyed the King. When we actually arrive in Winterfell it will be like he was raised there. I am sure.”

“I beg you pardon?”, Robb had no clue what she was talking about. She frowned for a moment. “Didn’t your Father tell you that we are to accompany you all up to the North to stay there? They were talking about a year...”

Robb recovered quicker this time. “We left for a walk before our parents came back. I guess it is time to return than. But if you don’t mind asking… Why a year?” He was puzzled by this weirdly specific condition. “The King agreed to give me a bit of a _reprieve_ before marrying me off. I personally guess he doesn’t want to let Theon out of your Father’s influence that early. If we would marry now, there would be no real reason, to not let him go home to the Iron Islands right after. And well, Jon wanted to see his mother’s home anyway. He is quite excited. It is adorable.” She smiled again, softly.

Whatever resentment had flickered over her features as she had spoken about her father, vanishing fast.

Robb tried his best to keep his own smile in place as he remembered the nonchalant way his friend had talked about his betrothed. And there was the fact that he had stood here and indulged in Rhaenys’ presence as if she was not engaged to someone else like he wasn’t. But the thought of having her around a little longer made him genuinely happy, having Jon close too. He felt like they could become close friends fast.

“Robert Baratheon had agreed on the spot to let Myrcella go too.”, Rhaenys’ words caught him like a bucket of ice water. “She told us a bit about Winterfell. She is a good kid.”

Gods, he needed to be careful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, I have this hc or more the wish lol that Robb and Sansa were close as kids. We only have impactful scenes between Jon&Arya, Jon&Robb, Jon&Bran, Bran&Robb(&Rickon) and Arya&Sansa focusing on their bickering and idk I like the thought that Sansa was the spoiled little baby for like two years.¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	8. Jaime III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tywin did not grace his whining with an answer. Jaime sighed, rubbing his eyes. He just had to go thru with this. The girl didn’t seem to like him either. The Rock was big. They could avoid each other until he was allowed to leave again. This could work. Father could force him to marry and he could force him home but he could not force him to spent time with her. Especially if they both loathed each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are you ready for Jaime and Brienne to spend some time together even though they still hate each other?

Jaime looked out of the window, without really seeing anything. His father was sitting at the table behind him, reading reports that came in from the Rock, letting his son brood without a care in the world.

“Why so soon, Father?”, he knew the answer to that. Yesterday would have been not soon enough for Tywin. “Why do I have to leave for home immediately after?” He also knew the answers to that. Or answers. He wanted Jaime to look after the Rock because he wanted to know, how he would fare as Lord of the Keep. A test trail so to speak. He also wanted his oaf of a bride and the humiliation of their house as far away from court as possible. And if Jaime was not in King’s Landing anymore the King could not change his mind that easily.

Tywin did not grace his whining with an answer. Jaime sighed, rubbing his eyes. He just had to go thru with this. The girl didn’t seem to like him either. The Rock was big. They could avoid each other until he was allowed to leave again. This could work. Father could force him to marry and he could force him home but he could not force him to spent time with her. Especially if they both loathed each other.

He wanted to go see Cersei. He wanted to take her and spent a whole day somewhere in privacy. Somewhere where no one could find them. But days like this were a relic of childhood where no one cared to look after them. Now things were different. But the thought of leaving his love so soon left him hollow.

“I have already picked out the clothes you will wear at the wedding ceremony.”, Tywin still did not look up and Jaime did not turn around to him. Of course, he would not even choose that. “Tomorrow morning the King will officially undo your oaths before witnesses. Then in the afternoon, we will have your wedding, a smallish feast, and well you know what you have to do on your wedding night.”

Jaime nodded even though Tywin could not see him do that. Instead, he focused on the yard outside. He saw Loras Tyrell show off in front of a small crowd of noble girls. He was only wearing a loose tunic because of course, he was and-

Jaime took a double-take, because no. Surely, he was mistaken. Closing his eyes and opening them again, he checked a second time and no, yes. Loras’ opponent was definitely his future fucking wife. She looked very different from an hour or so ago. The insecure girl in the ill-fitting dress was gone and he now watched a young woman in breaches and leather boots, handling her steel.

He would lie if he said he wasn’t curious to learn more about the girl’s sword training. Obviously, she knew what she was doing at least to a certain point.

He found himself unable to look away because her elected movements were captivating. All the things that made Brienne of Tarth a mockery in the ballroom, were perfect for the battlefield.

“Jaime?”, his father's annoyed voice startled him out of his ogling. “Are you listening to me?” Jaime turned and he caught Tywin in the motion of rolling his eyes at him. Jaime’s stomach dropped. Suddenly he was a boy again, desperate for his father’s approval.

Tywin just opened his mouth to repeat whatever he had been saying when there was a knock on the door. Myrcella came in beaming up at her grandfather. Jaime watched Tywin’s eyes soften just a little bit. He remembered what Tyrion said yesterday. That their father would not care about Cersei’s children. He supposed Myreclla was such a sweet girl, no one could not love her.

“Grandfather!”, she called as she fell into a quick curtsey before she closed her arms around the old Lion’s mid. “Are you coming here to tell me that you will leave for the north soon?” Confusion in big green eyes, but she nodded. “I know, my little cup.” Tywin brushed her gold hair. “Make sure you write your old grandfather. Especially if that betrothed of yours does not treats you right.” The girl nodded again, face schooled seriously.

“I am aware of the bad blood between your family, _our family,_ and the Starks, but I am confident that I can change their mind, given the time.”

“Oh, little one.”, Tywin kissed the top of her head tenderly. A gesture that would not happen if they weren’t alone. “I am sure they will love you. Who could not love you?”

“Thank you, for your confidence, grandfather.”, she positively radiated happiness now. “Uncle.”, she waved at him, almost shy and for a fleeting moment, Jaime’s heart stung with what could have been. What could have been if he was closer to his children? Greeting her back, he tried a smile.

__

For the ball tonight Jaime was brought a rich outfit in Lannister colors. For a moment he felt like he would drown in gold. Was this how he would dress every occasion now that he was his father’s heir again?

He slipped into red breaches, a golden tunic, and a wide ruby red cloak. Rings were sitting on his bed. Gold with impossible rubies. Soon he would be where he belonged. A lion on the Rock.

__

The hall was already vibrating with laughter and song when Jaime stepped into the line, the newly betrothed had formed. He nodded to his nice and nephew. While Joffrey was sporting a dark face and ignored the girl next to him, without a doubt because the Stark boy was placed before him, Myrcella seemed content with a slightly nervous-looking Stark heir next to her. She even smiled at him as he passed.

His girl was wearing a gown similar to the one she wore this morning. The bodice was decorated with the sun and moons of her house. For a brief moment, he tried to reconcile this girl and the woman he had seemed in the yard. It did not seem possible. She was not looking at him or greeting him but Jaime did not care. He let her slip her arm thru his and let his gaze wander.

Rhaenys was wearing a complicated bloodred dress, partly in essosi style. She held her chin high and made the impression to listen to the Greyjoy boy who was grinning too wide and talking too much. With a start, Jaime noticed that the Princess was wearing a hairnet made from deep orange garnets. Martell color. Her father would not be pleased to see it.

Behind her, Jon and Sansa Stark made quiet and strictly polite conversation. The prince looked nervous as always, wearing only black, while the girl seemed attentive but distance. Well, that was ought to be interesting.

Third, in line was Viserys who seem to ignore Margaery Tyrell mostly. They were an odd pair. He wore such a dark red velvet it was almost black, while his jewelry was a polished black stone, hard and unyielding. His fiancé was a vision of color and flowers, shining with a bright smile and all her edges were soft and sweet.

He could hear Myrcella giggle right behind him. A beautiful sound.

As the door opened, they started their troublesome decent to the high table. This time it was exclusively reserved for the couples, while the king and crown prince were sitting some distance from the center of attention. Surly to slip out unnoticed later, Jaime was certain. The Queen was absent as usual.

As he stepped into the hall a collective gasp went thru the crowed and Jaime had to suppress an eye roll because he could not handle that level of dramatics. Cersei was standing next to her husband uninterested, but she smiled at him as he passed her and he returned it. She wore the same rubies he did. Making them match as always.

The night progressed normally. They ate, their table conversed. And with this, he meant Jon tried to get Sansa to actually be involved other than short and polite answers, while the Tyrell girl tried the same with Viserys, and Robb and Myrcella seemed to get along rather well.

After the meal, the music became louder and some of the guests of honor started to mingle. The king was gone but Aegon stepped up to ask his sister to dance and throwing Jon a wink. The youngest Targaryen prince asked Sansa Stark to dance and her expression softened as he confessed that he might step on her feet. Viserys just straight-up vanished into the crowd. Jaime watched the dancing pairs and wanted to ask Cersei to dance. As always, as it should be. This was one of the last opportunities, but one glance at his father and he stayed where he was, next to a mute wench.

Tyrell took the now vacant stool the eldest prince had left and smiled at his bride. “You look way too miserable today for your pretty dress, Brienne.”, she commented easily. This was the first time Jaime saw his girl actually smile. She looked better that way and well, if she talked to the other girl at least they would not sit in silence for the whole evening.

The girls chatted and Jaime watched the dancers. He smiled as Tommen was now dancing with his sister, a bit clumsy but all happy and giggly anyway. He would miss her, he knew. It was a trend as the Stark siblings were also dancing with each other now, as was Jon with Rhaenys after he took over from Aegon. Theon jokingly asked his sister to dance and she hit him in the shoulder and handed him a cup of dark ale.

The princes and the princess were whispering amongst each other and he caught Rhaenys rolling her eyes as she nudged him in the direction of the table.

He came to them eventually, stopping in front of the girls. “Lady Margaery? Lady Brienne?” Tyrell lowered her head as did Brienne. “Would one of you care to dance?” His bride glanced at her pretty friend and looked down again. “His Highness is most gracious.”, she stated carefully. “But I am afraid I must decline as I would only step on your toes.” She tried a very plastered smile. “I am sure Marge will take you on that offer though.”

The Tyrell girl shot her a few worried looks but she was beaming now that she could dance with the other pairs and Aegon smiled at her in response.

Jaime was trying to ignore the girl next to him, but the brooding atmosphere was crushing. He was inclined to ignore her for the rest of the night first, but he caught golden locks from the corner of his eye and as he turned, expecting to see Myrcella, he saw Cersei, laughing and twirling in another man’s arms.

His heart stopped for a moment.

He did not know the man but he was tall dark and handsome.

On a whim, he grabbed his bride and pulled her onto the dance floor. Brienne knew better than make a scene apparently. But as the first shock washed away she returned his bruising grab as they started to dance with a dark glare. He guessed that was somewhere fair.

It was not his best plan he had to admit.

Who would be jealous of Brienne of Tarth?

“ _Ser_.”, her tone was low but sharp as a blade. As he did not answer her, her foot landed on his toes heavily and he glared at her now. “I am so sorry… But as I am sure you heard, I said earlier I am not a good dancer. It escapes me why you would drag me down here when you did not even look at me all day.”

“So, you did not forget what happened this morning then?”, Jaime asked sarcastically. She scoffed at him and he twirled her, using her distraction to make eye contact with a frowning Cersei.

“How could I, _Ser_?”

“Well, I told you the truth there, little girl. You should take it to heart.”

There was a long moment of silence again, but as the current song ended she curtsied, mumbled an excuse, and hurried away. Jaime blinked as he was abandoned. He felt his father’s disappointment already creeping up his skin. So, he forced himself to follow her and this time he felt Cersei’s very real eyes on him.

The air outside was cool as he tried to find the girl. He hated this. He had told her the truth. Sure, it had been brutal and less than polite but it was the truth nonetheless. He would not apologize for it.

A short scream interrupted his self-pity. He turned and followed the sound maybe it was her and he was right. But the wench was not the one that had screamed. He wound the girl with a hateful gaze and a raised hand. Joffrey had the matching outline of a slap on his face and Sansa Stark was sitting on the floor behind her, holding her own face.

“You ugly and disgusting creature! _How dare you?_ ”, Joffrey snarled, his sword hand flying to the hilt on his hip. Jaime saw his alcohol clouded eyes and frowned.

“What is the meaning of all this?”

All three of them turned to him and his son smiled triumphantly. “Uncle your ugly dog as struck me.” Brienne’s gaze flickered up to him insecurely. “He has cut the future Princess, Ser. I was only trying to prevent more damage.” She was holding back Jaime noticed. If he had to guess the girl wanted to scream and snarl and actually cut his brad of a nephew in retaliation, but she seemed to be disciplined at least.

If this noon was anything to go by his bride would take Joffrey out in a fair fight, effortlessly even.

“Joffrey.”, he said as authoritarian as he could, trying to channel his father. “You will go back inside and attend your own betrothed. It is rude to run off and your father would not like it.”

“But Uncle!”

“You are drunk! Go, before you do more damage.”

“I can’t believe you would-“

“Now! Move!”

The boy scoffed and stomped on the ground in frustration. He was truly a boy then, but he made his way back in any way.

When Jaime put his attention back to the girls, Brienne was helping Sansa up, making sure there was not more damage.

“Thank you, Lady Brienne.”, she murmured “And you Ser Jaime.”

He nodded kind of awkward. “Do you want me to inform your father, Jon, and Robert Baratheon? This-“ She shook her head franticly as his girl was looking confused. “I don’t know what you mean, Ser.” Her smile was frighteningly real. “Nothing happened except that I fell and cut my face doing so. I am that clumsy, you see.”

“But-“, Jaime put a hand on Brienne’s shoulder for a short moment to let Lady Stark go.

“Why would she cover for him like that?”

__

Later that night, Jaime collapsed onto his med fully clothed and he would have stayed there for the rest of his life but he needed to get up. There was no way he would ruin this expensive tunic this early. As he got up and loosened his cloak. The day had been too long and too much had happened.

He felt weirdly guilty about Joffrey’s behavior. Should he have done more? Could he have done more? Would he have cared, before he got to know the royal children?

The door opened. He knew it was Cersei.

She grabbed his arm and he let her turn him towards her. They were close. Cersei starred up at him. Her eyes were gleaming dangerously. “Your new bride might be a joke, but don’t you dare not come back to me the second you are able to. Do you hear me?”

There was still anger stinging at him but she looked so hurt it gave him a sick sense of satisfaction. But having her here now all to himself, made the anger melt away fast. She might have danced with a stranger but she had come to him at the end of the day.

“Yes.”, he swallowed. As she traced her hand from his neck down and to his clothed abdominal muscles. Claiming him with every short touch. Claiming him as hers. “We belong together.” She clawed at his face and he swallowed hard. “Yes…”

“You are mine. Mine. Mine. Mine!” She grabbed his hair at the back of his head and yanked his face down to hers. He groaned as pain and anticipation mixed. “Yes!”

Was he that weak?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Myrcella is being baby and doing her best, while she still has a crush on Robb  
> While Rhae is out here representing her mother’s house every chance she get.   
> Marge and Brienne friendship and our favorite knight protecting the innocent. (I would love for book! Sansa to meet Brienne and believe in knights again. Their friendship would be good for both of them. Also Brienne and Arya friendship could be so good too.)  
> (Give me canon girl friendships grrm without suffering and torture pls)  
> And Viserys is an ass but not as awful as Joffrey, publicly at least.
> 
> Next chapter is the wedding chapter! So, prepare yourselves


	9. Brinne IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He put her maiden cloak around her broad shoulders. Another Lannister wedding gift. This would be the last time the moon and sun of house Tarth could protect her. After that, she would be Lady Lannister-
> 
> Lady Brienne Lannister-
> 
> Gods help her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I hope you are fine. :)   
> Are you ready for a wedding and Brienne's panic?

She stood in front of the ‘small’ Sept.

Brienne looked down on her snow-white lace-dress. Way too expensive and exquisite for her liking. She hated how many dresses she had been made to wear during her stay in the Red Keep. A part of her hoped her husband would let her wear her breaches.

Her husband.

Jaime Lannister would be her husband in a few hours and tomorrow she would be on her way to her new home. Casterly Rock. The West.

Gods, she still wanted to run away so bad she was afraid she might vomit all over her father if he came to escort her in. She was not alone of course. Tall men in crimson cloaks were here to guard their Lord’s bride.

Naturally, they would also stop her from bolting.

She played with the hem on her sleeve not sure, what to do. She could not run, not in the long dress, but she was allowed to say no, right? They were not allowed to force her. Forcing someone to say vows was against the law, right? She could just go up to the Septon and say no.

No.

She could say no.

“Brienne.”, she almost jumped at her father’s hand on her shoulder. He smiled at her sadly and she would not let him regret this decision. So, she put on the most convincing smile she could muster. It didn’t seem to work.

He took her hand in his. “You look beautiful today.” But she knew it was not true. “Father.” She hugged him. It was an impulse and she felt a bit uncomfortable with the guards there. Their golden lion emblems seem to stare at her.

“Thank you for everything you do for me.” He rubbed her shoulders careful not to wrinkle her gown. “Oh, sweetling. You know I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He put her maiden cloak around her broad shoulders. Another Lannister wedding gift. This would be the last time the moon and sun of house Tarth could protect her. After that, she would be Lady Lannister-

Lady Brienne Lannister-

Gods help her.

They linked their arms and Selwyn walked his daughter down the aisle. Brienne died a bit inside. It was both too short and not long enough at all. As promised not too many people were there. She saw the Baratheons as her father’s liege lord and of course as part of her new family. She saw Renly and Loras sending her sad smiles and Margaery with them.

She did not spot the King but instead the royal children. Rhaenys stood tallest amongst them, yet again wearing orange and gold. Brienne watched her as long as she could. She was radiant like the sun herself. She almost missed how incredibly uncomfortable Jaherys seemed.

And in front of the sept in the kaleidoscope of the great crystal underneath the painted glass windows stood Jaime Lannister himself, clad in gold as shining as his hair. She could admit that he was handsome for his age and that another girl would be excited about that fact, but it did not ease her fears.

What would this man do to her tonight?

She curtsied to the Septon and to Tywin Lannister who would be her good father in a couple of hours. The man who paid for all of that. One of the most feared and respected men in Westeros.

As both bride and groom stood before the Septon and carefully crafted faces of God. The Mother and the Father respectfully. The altar the Septon used was small than in a bigger sept or even the Great Sept of Baelor but it was richly decorated with gems in all the colors of the rainbow.

The Septon, a lanky man with mouse-brown hair smiled at them.

“Dear believers, we came together on this wonderful day to celebrate the bond between house Lannister and house Tarth as their children will be joined in holy matrimony. Ser Jaime Lannister and Lady Brienne of Tarth stand before the gods today to ask for their blessing and their protection in this new and important section on their path of life.”

The congregation grew quiet and watched them as the Septon opened his arms and started to chant a single prayer of love and marriage. Brienne kept her head down respectfully. She was raised in the light of the seven after all and this was not the first wedding, she attended but to stay here in the center of it all was a whole other thing.

This would be the longest hours of her life.

Then the bride and groom were to say the seven vows.

“Father, bless these children with prosperity and a pure and respectful shared life.”

Jaime did not look at her, those were just more vows he could break, she thought cynically. “I vow to you, that I will ensure your and our children’s wellbeing as a man is ought to do, so the Father help me.”

“I vow to take on all your responsibilities with you and help and attend to you as a good wife should, so the Father help me.”

Together they lit the red candle on the altar and continued.

“Warrior, bless them with physical, mental, and spiritual strength to face their problems together and never lose their faith.”

Jaime stared up the statue of the Warrior. “I vow to protect you and our family with all my being, so the warrior help me.”

Brienne on the other hand tried not to blush: “I vow to you that I will always be there to tend to your wounds and gift you, my eternal love, so the warrior help me.”

The idea was that a girl needed bravery to love her husband as a soldier needed it on the battlefield. Brienne never liked that notion, because a) didn’t men also need to be brave to confess and stand by their feelings and b) woman could fight. But Brienne lit the yellow candle dutifully.

“Mother, we pray to you to bless this union with healthy and beautiful children.”

Brienne froze for a moment. Children. _Children_. She almost didn’t hear Ser Jaime over the rushing in her ears and the annoying blush on her face.

“I vow to work for the education and welfare for our future children, so they grow up noble, brave, and protected, so the Mother help me.”

“I vow to gift you as many children and heirs as my body and the gods allow me to have and I vow to raise and love every single one of them, so the Mother help me.”

In the end, Brienne was just glad that her voice did not waver. She wanted her own children; she always had wanted that. But when she had thought about that part of her future, she had always imagined little feet in the sand beaches of Tarth, not Lion cups in the western mountains. Her children would be Jaime Lannister’s children. A scary thought. The deep indigo candle was lit.

“We pray to the maiden, help these children to find their purpose in life, and bless their union with commitment and love.”

“I vow to you that I will never betray you by laying with another woman, so the Maiden help me.”

Brienne wished that he would look at her so she could see the lie in his green eyes. A vow of loyalty from a man like that. What a joke. What man these days didn’t have bastards? Young lords in particular. Still, she opened her mouth: “I vow to never disgrace your house and myself with laying with another man, so the Maiden help me.” They lit the blue candle.

Unwavering the Septon continued and Brienne wished for this to be over.

“We asked the Smith to gift those children with a strong bond to their families old and new, may he strengthen the sense of duty and family.”

Now Ser Jaime was starring into the already lit candles. “I vow that I will respect your council as my Lady and wife, as it is ought to be, so the Smith help me.”

Brienne wanted to scream at him to look at her, to at least look her in the eyes and say that he would respect her, but instead, she took a breath and played the shy wife. Was it too late to defeat him in combat and flee?

“I vow to you to serve and please you to the best of my abilities as my Lord and husband as it is ought to be, so the Smith help me.”

When she was little Brienne never understood the notion to say a vow like this under the Smith. Well, she thought all the vows could be said to the Mother as she was the goddess of wedding and childbirth but whatever. Her septa only said that the Smith is responsible to mend things, as they were supposed to be. A husband to respect his wife and a wife to please her husband in turn. Ugh. The orange candle burned.

“We pray to the crone to gift them with wisdom and help them in times of sickness.”

“I vow to tent to you in sickness in and health, so the Crone help me.”

“I vow to you to serve you in sickness and health, so the Crown help me.”

They lit the purple candle. Jaime’s hand felt more and more like a puppet’s. He was tense, in spite of the nonchalant way he said his vows.

“May the Stranger come for them after a long and happy life, so we pray.”

“I vow to love you until my dying breath.”

Lies.

“I vow to love you until my dying breath.”

Lies, _lies, lies_!

The green candle was lit and their guests started to sing another song. As Brienne finally let go of Jaime’s hand.

Next, some of their guests asked for blessings from the Gods for their marriage. Tywin Lannister asked for them to might be blessed with prosperity and comfortable life. Selwyn asked for them to be blessed with healthy offspring. Cersei Lannister asked for bravery and strength to protect their new family. Rhaenys Targaryen asked for them to have the patience and compassion to withstand every quarrel they would have amongst themselves.

They were blessed with chastity and wisdom for their decisions and long painless life.

After that, it was still going on. Brienne’s legs started to ache a bit from standing in place in the heavy cloak for so long. Now they would exchange the seven promises. Empty words like their vows.

Brienne promised to obey Lannister.

A lie.

She promised to give herself to him.

A lie. Not if she could prevent it.

She promised to do everything to ease his burdens.

Given that she would be one of her problems that were technically also a lie.

Ser Jaime promised to protect her with his life, to respect her, and to spoil her.

They both promised to love each other. So much talk of love for a political and essentially forced marriage. Divine Love of the Gods. The love between Men and Women. The love between Families. And now they sang the final and longest of the songs. The wedding song.

"If anyone can show just evidence why this couple cannot lawfully be joined together in matrimony, before gods and men, let them speak now or forever hold their peace"

Brienne held her breath terrified and she was not sure what she was hoping for. This was the last chance to not be bonded to Jaime Lannister for the rest of her life. Her hand shot to her soulmark unconsciously. She both hoped and desperate for Loras or Renly to object and desperate for them to do something, but in the end, they stayed quiet and her father stepped up to her to remove her maiden cloak. Ans she felt light, naked, exposed without it.

For the first time that day, Ser Jaime turned to look at her. He excepted the rich red cloak with the detailed lion made from cold tread stitched on it. He cloaked her almost tenderly. Something she had not expected from this man.

The fleeting cold left her swiftly as his rough finger graced her exposed neck. She looked down at him. Gods, she was a bit taller than him. Distracted by the moment she almost missed her cue. “With this kiss, I pledge my love and take you for my Lord and Husband.”

He smiled a bit. So, close to him, she could see it. Was he mocking the heat in her cheeks? She had barely ever kissed anyone. It was natural to be nervous. “With this kiss, I pledge my love and take you for Lady and Wife.”

She told herself that she was not disappointed when his lips barely touched the corner of her mouth.

The Septon held the crystal high, bathing them in rainbow light again. “I hereby proclaim Ser Jaime of House Lannister and Lady Brienne of House Tarth to be one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever”

Brienne tried not to look back as she took her first steps as Lady Lannister.

__

After the wedding pie was sliced and the little sparrows realized and after everything who had anything to say was finished, Brienne just leaned back in her chair, sighing.

Ser Jaime had ignored her as he had before the poor excuse of their wedding kiss. Brienne did not care about, she was rather relieved. Since she got to eat and drink and rest, the terror of her wedding night had returned with a vengeance.

Today nobody was allowed to take the seat next to her that Ser Jaime vacated, as he moved down to dance with his sister. Brienne savored the break from their awkward silence. She wished to go down and sit with her friends, but it was unseemly for a bride to drink with unmarried men on her wedding day.

On a whim, she secured a small knife on her garter and shot a small prayer that the men would not detect it when they would undress her. She would be undressed by strangers. Her heart stopped in panic again.

Her friends would be there she tried to calm herself.

But her terrors were far deeper than that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The vows are inspired by the seven vows in Hindu Marriage since the concept is close to what grrm describes. I researched the tradition and tried to adapt it for asoiaf. The rest of the of the ceremony is inspired by catholic traditions bc the faith of the seven is very close to medieval catholic church. And well I am catholic, so it was easier. The coordinating colors and gods are taken from this very convincing reddit post 
> 
> https://www.reddit.com/r/asoiaf/comments/27js83/spoilers_published_discussion_on_the_colors_of/


	10. Jaime IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was going to be a longer night than he liked, wasn’t it?
> 
> “My Lady, please.”, he didn’t try to move towards her again. Not with a sharp knife in her hand and not with the shrill panic in her voice. He could call a guard, but he didn’t need this kind of attention tonight. At least this was a sad confirmation that no one was listening in or the door would have been opened minutes ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys,  
> have an update that is a bit short but it is were I wanted this to end. Stay tuned to next week.  
> C U <3

Jaime was a bit intoxicated; he could admit it to himself. The day had been long and strenuous and he longed for it to be over.

The court women were undressing him rather enthusiastic as many of them were as drunk or drunker than him. He tried not to think about their attention too much when Cersei was near him seating with silent anger. He would come to her after tending to his wife. There is no way he would miss the opportunity to spend his last night in King’s Landing with her.

When he was finally pushed into the quickly prepared room, he was only wearing his short breaches. His pants and shirt lost somewhere along the way.

Brienne was sitting on the bed only a sheer wedding shift on her strong body. She was watching him sharply thru moonlit eyes. Like an animal that was chased into a corner and desperate enough to attack.

Jaime rubbed his face, too tired and too annoyed to deal with this kind of nonsense. “My Lady?”, he tried tentatively even, but he supposed his annoyance leaked into his voice, because sharp eyes flowed his steps, as he moved forward.

“Are you alright?” He reached out to her. A careful hand stretched to meet her clothed shoulder. Suddenly metal gleamed in the low light of candles and stars. A knife. Jaime retreated frowning. “What are you-?”

“Don’t touch me.”, she hissed.

He supposed trapped animal was more fitting then he liked to.

This was going to be a longer night than he liked, wasn’t it?

“My Lady, please.”, he didn’t try to move towards her again. Not with a sharp knife in her hand and not with the shrill panic in her voice. He could call a guard, but he didn’t need this kind of attention tonight. At least this was a sad confirmation that no one was listening in or the door would have been opened minutes ago.

Instead, Jaime raised his hands, as non-threatening as he could. He was a tall man sure, but he was literally standing here unarmed and undressed except for his underpants. Also, the girl was taller and had a knife, if only a small silver one. What a great wife he had.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”, he insisted even though the urge to strike her and be done with it was certainly there, but he didn’t need to advertise this. As she fixed him with narrowed eyes, he sighed. “I don’t want to bed you either if that’s what you concerned about. Don’t you think if I want to rape you I would be doing so already? Do you think your little cutlery is scaring me? If I wanted to I could just take you. You are legally mine after all.”

Her stance didn’t change as she whispered: “Than what the fuck do you want?”

“For you to calm down, for starters.”

She sat on the bed facing him, putting her weapon down but it was close enough to her body, to still grab it in case of an ambush.

Jaime at least meant what he had said. He wouldn’t want her even if she was the most beautiful woman in the world and begging him on her knees to fuck her and he certainly wasn’t interested in raping a wench like that either.

He rubbed his face again, sobering up fast. “if you don’t want to we don’t have to do this.”, he said slowly. “I don’t know how many times you need to hear this but I probably dread this marriage as much as you do. And at the end of the day, I had as little say in this as you did.”

She still seemed suspicious and ready to cut him. Stupid girl. “You say you wouldn’t take me against my will, but you will want an heir eventually and I am bound to you now-“

“I don’t want an heir, my father does. He wants me because I am not Tyrion. Girl, if I wanted to be the heir of Casterly Rock, I wouldn’t have taken the vows for the Kingsguard all those years ago.”

“You don’t choose to join.”, she pointed out stubbornly “You are chosen.”

“And why do you think my sister recommended me? Because she hates me so much?”

She was quiet for a moment, pulling her legs up and resting her knees against her chest. If he was a better man he would feel sorry for her.

“Lay on the bed, girl.” She glared again and he definitely had a headache now. Jaime sighed: “Please? I won’t touch you, but we have to make it look like we did it. You don’t want my father to hunt us down tomorrow when we are already down the King’s road.”

Brienne blushed a bit and laid on her back, cranking her neck to still look at him. Jaime snatched the knife and she propped herself up again. He gestured her to stop and brought his foot upon the bed, a bit under her hip. “Roll over.”

After she did, he cut the skin on the sole of his foot and smeared a drop of blood or two on the white linen sheets. Gods, Jaime hoped this was convincing enough. The girl watched him do it, with an unreadable expression. “You will not touch me?”, she asked more bitterly than insecure. “I told you. I don’t care.”

He fell next to her on the bed. The bloodstain between them.

“Why don’t you leave?”

“Do you want me to leave?”

She shrugged, watching the ceiling. Jaime looked away. They were both still very much undressed and even though this girl was his lawful wife now, it still felt like he was cheating on Cersei.

“I can leave in a bit if you want.”, he said after a moment of heavy silence between them. “But for us to sell this we have to spend some time together.” The smile on his lips was thin and he counted down the minutes in his head.

“Thank you, Ser.”, his wife’s voice was quiet but firm. He looked at her profile. “I’m not doing this for you.”

“I know”, she was still watching the ceiling. “It is still helping me too. And I guess it could have been unluckier than that.”

The silence stretched and Jaime asked himself when it would be appropriate to leave her. He wanted to go see Cersei before tomorrow. His need to see her was burning in the back of his mind. Not knowing how long his father wanted him to stay in the Westerlands.

With a cautious eye, Jaime turned back to her. Her profile was casting weird shadows in the low moonlight. Her face was wide and her nose’s angle even more awkward from his point of view. He was sure that he would lay here and count her freckles he would fall asleep fast.

“Ser? Are you awake?” Brienne turned to him, the first time since he had laid down. Big blue eyes stared into his. “Obviously.”, he huffed. “Are you…?”, she blushed. He just raised a golden brow, prompting her to go on.

“Do you prefer men?”

He had to bit his lip to not laugh. It was a common rumor. Jaime understood were it came from, but it was hilarious considering the truth.

“I mean.”, she stuttered a bit. “You don’t seem to be, but who am I to judge? People like what they like.”

“No.”, he said easily, not able to ban the amusement from his voice.

She fixed him now pondering. “You don’t have any bastards…? You don’t-“

“I don’t have any bastards you know of. I swore an oath of celibacy. It’s not that I can run around and claim bastards. But to disappoint you, most of the Kingsguard have fathered bastards. The only exceptions are probably Ser Baristan and Ser Arthur.”

“Ser Arthur is such a good knight.”

“And I am not?”

“But weren’t you excited to work with him when you were my age?”

He did not comment on how she had ignored his question.

He could not stop his smile and the excitement on his own. “I thought it was the single best day of my life when he knighted me. I was the most impressive person I had ever met.”

His wife’s eyes went soft. “I can only imagine how that must have felt.” “Tell me about your home.”, she tried to prompt some more conversation. Jamie shook his head softly. “I spent more time here at this point than I ever did at Casterly Rock. I am not sure what to tell you. I don’t even know if my Father changed anything over the years.”

“Didn’t you miss it?”

“Not, really. My siblings were here most of the time over the years. My father was here often enough and I did what liked most.”

“I hope we can find something to do when we are there. I hope we both can find some happiness.”

That was the last thing he consciously remembered: The sad dip of her voice, the sparkle in big blue eyes and doubts. Jaime didn’t even notice that he had fallen asleep next to Brienne.


	11. Jaime V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime had woken with a start, only to find he had slept the whole night next to his wife. He was sitting in an instant angry with himself for missing his rendezvous with Cersei the night before. Now he was greeted with whips of daylight that broke into the room. So, it shouldn’t be that long until a servant was to wake them.
> 
> He raked a hand thru his unruly hair. His wife was still sleeping next to him, curled up into herself, while her fine hair fanned out on the sheets around her, the wisps of sunlight painting her freckles golden.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Braime will be at Casterly Shortly, but first some story development.  
> I am slowley also annyoed with Cersei lol

Jaime had woken with a start, only to find he had slept the whole night next to his wife. He was sitting in an instant angry with himself for missing his rendezvous with Cersei the night before. Now he was greeted with whips of daylight that broke into the room. So, it shouldn’t be that long until a servant was to wake them.

He raked a hand thru his unruly hair. His wife was still sleeping next to him, curled up into herself, while her fine hair fanned out on the sheets around her, the wisps of sunlight painting her freckles golden.

Her chest fell and raised with every even breath she took. Brienne of Tarth. Brienne Lannister. His wife. The woman that he would spend the next few months with and well, technically the rest of his life. After a moment too long to be excusable Jaime rose, put on his breaches and shoe’s and sneaked out of his wife’s room.

Back in his own, now mostly bare quarters, he washed up and put on new clothes.

He moved out of the room unsure as to what to do with the remaining time, he was greeted by an unusual sighed in the White Sword Tower: Rhaenys Targaryen stood before him.

She wore a rather simple dress in startling yellow. But the garment did not distract from the deep creases under her eyes. A stark contrast to the rest of her even skin, that betrayed the sleepless night she had.

“Your highness?”, Jaime asked somewhat insecure because he could not see why the Princess would come to him in the dawn of morning when she had obviously not slept a minute that night. But she was here, evidently to see him because she waited in the corridor in front of his room.

“Ser Jaime, I know you don’t necessarily have to, but could you walk with me? For old time’s sake?”

Jaime smiled and offered her his arm anyway. They walked thru the yard back to the main keep. It was quiet save for the servants walking about and Rhaenys still didn’t say what she had to say, but she would spit it out eventually.

“My mother had an attack yesterday…”

“Did she…?”

Jaime didn’t really have much of a relationship with Queen Elia, except for the guilt he felt over what could have happened to her and the children in the sack of Kingslanding if Ned Stark didn’t show off in time. The thought…

“No, but it could have been. The maesters were tending to her all night. She is stable but weak. My brothers are with her right now.”

“I’m glad.”, he said genuinely

The Queen was a fighter even though many men saw her as fragile and weak due to her conditions. Nobody talked about the fact that Rhaegar’s impatience was mostly to blame for the way her pregnancies had destroyed Elia’s body. No, he was the great King, and she, his ghost of a wife. As someone who had a difficult relationship with his father and no mother, he likes to think that he understood Rhaenys’ anger.

Maybe it was just his own disdain for the King.

“I am afraid to leave.” The Princess continued. “I know it will not be for months before we leave for Winterfell, but when I and Jon are north, Aegon will be alone here. And I don’t want to imagine what could happen to mother when-“ She shut her mouth, took a deep breath, and then her voice was even again.

“I personally don’t think she will survive long after.”

“Why do you tell me then? And so out in the open at that?”, he stopped to look into her purple eyes. “People will hear you and its not like I could do anything. I’ll leave in the next few hours, besides I am no Kingsguard anymore.”

He said that, but deep down he knew that the Princess didn’t have any real friends at court. Most people who stayed all year long were blindly loyal to her father and the ladies she surrounded herself out of duty only knew the sweet princess, not the venom that lingered underneath. her friends, her real friends were in Dorne.

“I don’t care who hears… And you were the only Kingsguard who didn’t worship the ground the King is walking. I worry about my mother and I worry about both my brothers, but the only one I can protect in the future is Jon.”

Again Jaime was not sure why the Princess was telling him, out of all people but he felt like he could do her the favor and listen as he was leaving anyway. “But I guess I congratulations are in order, ser. How is your bride?”

“She is sleeping in her room, your highness. How do you feel about your betrothal?”

“Theon is a handsome man, but I don’t think I could be happy on the Iron Islands”, she smiled halfheartedly. “Not that I have to think about it any time soon. Winterfell is far closer in my future. I am far more concerned about the cold since I am accustomed to heat after all. Jon on the other hand… It will be good for him to spent some time with his mother’s family.

He had an instant connection with Robb and Arya. Lord Stark still looks at him with sad eyes but the way he loves him unconditional is touching. And well Sansa is a polite girl, a pretty girl and gracious but she is distant to him in a way no other Stark acts around him. Jon is nervous that he would hurt his uncle in the way the King has hurt their family like Rhaegar had hurt them by running with Lyanna. He did look me in the eyes when he said that: I am a Targaryen after all.”

She shook her head smiling.

“He is more his mother than he had ever been like Rhaegar. No matter how much our Father wanted him to be a true Targaryen. So, I hope he can be at least be friends with Sansa even if they didn’t end up in love with each other…

It is Aegon who will be left alone here, with the burden to tend to Mother while Rhaegar will not give him a flicker of attention and he still is not betrothed even though we are already and he is the heir. I worry that the King will pass him over in the line of succession for Jon or Viserys or… I don’t know.”

“God save us all if we have another dance of Dragons just because Rhaegar doesn’t know how to hold peace even after all those years…”

“I worry about what-“ she cut herself off as they were approaching the end of their little journey.

Instead of going to see his family or his wife, he turned at made his way to the Queen’s rooms, still holding on to the Princess. “I know you don’t have to listen to me but I will tell you my thoughts anyway: You should be more selfish... You take responsibility for your mother when your Father does not care if she lives or dies. You try to smooth the tension between your brothers as if they were still boys. You constantly cut your own needs short to make sure they find happiness, but you can’t entertain his feelings for you just because you don’t want to hurt him.

And don’t deny it, I have eyes. I see the way he looks at you. And Jon let him make his own progress with Lady Sansa. It will be his life. They are both men grown. Similar applies to Daenerys… She will have to marry too, you can’t protect all her life.”

Rhaenys didn’t have time to answer him, as far as Jaime was concerned she didn’t have too. This would be the end of their almost-friendship. Whenever Jamie would be allowed to travel to Kingslanding again, she and Jon would be long gone.

“Your Grace.” Jaime escorted her oldest in. Aegon was sitting at his Mother’s bedside and stroked her shiny hair, whispering words of encouragement while Jon sat a slight distance away, watching them with a soft smile. As Jaime entered with their sister both men watched them with suspicion.

“I wanted to bid you farewell, my Queen.”, Jaime said, ignoring the Princes. Elia’s smile was as brilliant as he had known it at Harrenhall all those years ago. “believe it or not, you will be missed here, Ser Jaime.”

“Well, I didn’t want to contradict you, your grace. The Princess had told me about what had happened to you tonight and I just wanted to see how you are recovering. The world would be so much darker without you in it.”

He meant that last comment though, he really did.

When he left to break his fast with Tyrion, he still felt sick for not seeing Cersei last night. Would she forgive him for breaking a promise to her so carelessly?

His brother at least was happy to see him and the greasy smell of bacon and potato, roasted with onions, mushrooms, and herbs eased the constant sickness to his stomach a bit. Tyrion grinned at his growling stomach: “You were a bit drunk yesterday. I thought a bit of hot meat will lift your spirit before the journey west. Where have you hidden my lovely good sister?”

Jaime glared halfheartedly but sat and dug into the food anyway. It was divine.

Concerning Tyrion’s question, he just shrugged. “I imagine she was woken and is spending her morning with her father, as long as she still could…”

“You know, Father will not be happy if he learns that you sneaked out before the girl woke, that’s very rude.”, there was a teasing grin on Tyrion’s face.

“I personally don’t think Father gives a shit, brother. Besides, he can make me marry her but he can’t command me to like her.”

The other man snorted: “Delightful. Your wedding night was good then?”

“I did what is right…”, Jaime answered carefully. He was no stranger to lies, but he would not make this more difficult than it had to be.

“Let’s hope so… But since Father hasn’t dragged you back into your marriage bed by the ears, he must be satisfied with what he found.”

Ironically enough his father would be the only one satisfied by Jaime’s wedding night. Well, only if he never found out the truth that was.

Tyrion walked him to the courtyard was his horse and to his surprise, his wife’s horse waited. Brienne embraced her father when the Lannister brothers came into view and all Jaime got from her was a slow curtsy and a mumbled greeting.

He sensed someone glaring daggers in his neck, but when he turned, expecting to see Cersei, he was confronted with a grumpy looking Tyrell and Baratheon.

Cersei for her part was nowhere to be found, in her stead, Myrcella and Tommen had come to him, embraced him, told him that they would miss him. His heart ached. When would be the next time he would see Myrcella again when she was to marry the heir of Winterfell?

“Please be careful, Uncle Jaime.”, his niece asked him as she pressed her face into his traveling cloak. “I will do my best to make you proud too.”

He put fingers thru his finger over her smooth locks, so much like her mothers. “You are not the only member of this family, sweetling.”, he whispered to her. “Don’t let your grandfather’s ambition ruin your happiness.”

The children also waved shyly at his wife. The girl waved back from the back of her horse, morning light brightening her blue eyes and brilliant smile secured on her face.

It was time to go home, he guessed.


	12. Robb II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He was very aware of his attraction to Rhaenys but she was his cousins beloved sister, his best firend’s indended and a princess of the realm. Not to mention that he had his own fiancé that he should focus his attention on.
> 
> He should rather try to be her friend than dwell on such fleeting affections. Right, he barley knew her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, sorry for uploading a bit later than usual. I am a bit sick, nothing serious but still annoying.  
> Are you ready for Robb to lie to himself?

Robb was meeting with Jon in one of the many courtyards to go and ride out. He had heared what had almost happened to her majesty the Queen but he was not sure how to treat his cousin accordingly. Queen Elia was not his mother but she was the woman who had raised him alongside his siblings.

The eldest Stark had seen the dark bruised under Prince Aegon’s face, last dinner as he had kept to his mothers side the whole night she had been in danger and the day after. He had seen thePrincess worry that tried behind empty smiles and empty conversation. Something that Theon didn’t even catch. To Robb’s anger he had to almost force the Greyjoy heir to try to comfort his bethroted with was quiet unseateling.

He should have a serious conversation before the left for Winterfell, because not only was Raenys is entended, but Jon’s sister and the Princess of the realm, mistreating her in marriage would come with consequences for Theon his careless friend didn’t even seem to think about.

Robb remembered when he had been that free, but a year ago his father had started to take an even closer look at his education and behaviour as he was growing up and his heir. Something Theon never had as a hostage of war.

And than there were the misterioyus bruises blooming on his fair sister’s skin that made his own crawl in disgust and anger. When he had first spotted them Sansa had brushed it off as clumseyness but they all knew she was not clumsay. Than she had begged him to keep it a secret. He had agreed, only for the cold fear in her eyes, but it didn’t stop him from investigating himself.

He- He just worried a lot these days.

And it left him with bitterness and headaches.

Another side effect was that he felt he did not attent Lady Myrcella as much as was ought to be or could.. She didn’t deserve to be ignored and his Father and Lord Baratheon expected a lot from this marriage. He could not disappoint.

When Jon came into view already with a stable hand waiting with their respective horses and a guard standing ready, Robb forced a smile he hoped was not tainted by his stress. He liked his cousin. Over the last few weeks they had grown rather close to each other. Jon felt more like an additional brother than a cousin he had met for the first time.

Robb felt like he could share at least some of his grief with Jon and hopped that the young prince felt the same.

“Robb.”, he called and the Stark felt how his tension melted away at least a little bit. “Your Highness.” He bowed. Jon had insisted that he should use his preferred name, but there were people here watching and even tought it felt now awkward on his tongue he needed to show a certein curtsy if only for the King’s sage.

He still wasn’t sure about the full extent of the tension between his Father and the Targaryen King but his Aunt running of with him when she had been promised to someone else was a big part of it Probably.

Jon drew his dark brows closer, irretated but he didn’t say anything. Robb for his part had to stifle a chuckle. It was errie how much Jon resebled a confused Lord Eddard like that.

__

The ride thru Kingslanding had been tedious. Robb had decided fast that he hated the city. He missed the wide north with its towns and villigases and summer snow. The capital was cramped and heated and full of people living atop each other. Nothing he was remotely used to.

He breathed a sigh of relive once they finally made it to the woods beyond the city. The guard was still following them then but at a more negelegtable distance. Robb for once tried to be content with the wind in his hair and the warmth of his stallion beneath his tighs.

Robb hasn’t even noticed how it started but before last him and Jon were racing down a small path to see who of them was faster.

When they finally slowed again, the royal guard were just tiny dots in the background. Well, the King and his Father would not be pleased, but Robb could not banish the giant grint stretching his lips. When he looked at his coulsin he saw it mirrowed with a amussed glint in dark eyes.

“Well, that was rather fun.”

“Yes, even tough Sansa will yell at me for being so reckless.”

“You think your sister is scary?”, Jon raised an eyebrow in the direct sunlight Robb could spot the purple in his eyes. “Have you seen mine? Sansa on the other hand had been nothing but gracious.”

“Yes, because she wants you to like her.”

Robb lauged at the blush dusting Jon’s cheeks. It was hard to remember that Jon was Rhaegar Targaryen’s son. As the King had been and still was very popular with women and maidens alike. Jon was handsome too (Again it was weird because it was like talking about his father) but were the King was aloof and unbordered with the attention, had always been according to many, Jon was pron to be flusstred and had no use for such interest.

“Don’t say something like this…”

Robb shrugged: “But it is true. My sister was always dreaming about a loving marriage and a good husband.”

The prince’s face burned brighter. Robb sniggered. That was fun.

“ _Please_ , Robb.”, Jon pleaded. “She is barley opening up to me…”, Robb watched him deflaited. “I don’t need her to love me. This is an arranged marriage. I just want to make the best out of it, but she is so distant and cold at times… I could be talking to the wall for all I know.”

Jon looked as hurt as a kicked puppy. Robb for his part was the confused now. “Sansa is talking about you constantly.”, he stated. “She seems to like you rather well… I have no idea what-” His mouth fell shut fast. What the seven hells was going on with his baby sister?

“Have you seen her spent time with Joffrey?”

Robb would have laughed at Jon’s disgusted expression if he wasn’t so frightfull. He was sure that barley anyone liked the Baratheon heir.

“Yes, sometimes, I suppose, but she doesn’t seem to like him. Your father’s are friends right?”

“That’s not all of it.”, he rubbed his neck awkwardly. “Since you know, um.” Robb clsed his stupid mouth again. Well, maybe he should think before saying things. But well, he opened this, he had to go thru with it. “Since Lord Baratheon was suppose to marry my aunt.”

Did it make it better, if he didn’t call her Jon’s mother?

“So, when he and his family first came to Winterfell he issued a bethrothel between Joffrey and Sansa as he was convinced to bring our houses together in this generation.” He decided not to look at his cousin because he didn’t want to make him uncomfortable but it needed to be said now.

“But Joffrey turned out to be rather… rude to my sister… After a while she sported injouries she claimed she got from her poor riding skills, falling and stuff like that. She still denies it to this day but I am sure that little twat hit her. The engament was called of eventually.”

Jon did not look at him. Robb did not blame him. They were sitting in silence for a moment or two. The breathes of their horses and the sounds of the forrest around them. But before he could formulate his thoughts, galloping, fussed his lips back together.

“Jon!”

Robb felt the voice vibrite down his spine pleasantly. He did not need to turn to know who was calling out for them. When the princess was close enough for it to be too rude to ignore her, Robb turned and the sighed puched the air out of his lungs.

Rhaenys purples eyes were shining magnificently in the bright sunlight. She wore a thick riding dress with little suns embroided into the bodice, sturdy boots and a pair of yellow lether gloves.

“Oh, good day, Robb”

He bowed his head as deep as his siting position allowed. “My Princess, I did not expect you here.” She smilled at him brilliantly. Robb was vaguely aware that he sounded like Sansa when he described the Princess like this, but she was stunning and kind and _perfect_. He pinched himself descreetly, to force his stupid brain to get a grip.

He was very aware of his attraction to Rhaenys but she was his cousins beloved sister, his best firend’s indended and a princess of the realm. Not to mention that he had his own fiancé that he should focus his attention on.

He should rather try to be her friend than dwell on such fleeting affections. Right, he barley knew her.

“Jon I wanted to asked you if you would help me with some purchases I want to make. Do you want to accompany me?”

Robb watched Jon roll his eyes with a small genuine smile. He felt like he was intruding into something here. A private moment amongst siblings, he should not be privy too.

“Rhae, is it about the dress you want to let make in Father’s name?”

She shrugged, mishive twinkling in her eyes. “He is sending me away soon. On the other side of the real. Well the other side from Uncle Doran at least. How can I leave without being a nausance to him for some time longer?”

“Than why isn’t Aegon with you?”

“Father wanted him to spent time at the smallcouncel meeting Gods know why.”, than the Princess turned over to him. “Do you want to accompany us, Robb?”

He wanted to spent more time with Jon. And by the Gods he wanted to spent more time with Rhaenys but he should not. It was danougrous. He was like a moth looking at an open flame.

He should be smarter.

With a bitter taste in his mouth he said no.


	13. Rhaenys II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The man bowed deep, thanked her for her business, and took the hint to assist some other noble that had been set aside for the royal children. When no one was paying them much attention anymore, she elbowed Jon between his ribs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update guys, this weekend was very stressful and I didn't had the time to worry about edditing this chapter. I hope you still enjoy this deeper look into Rhaenys' character and you are getting ready for the drama that is brewing.  
> Next week we will catch up with Braime.  
> xx

“Jon”, Rhaenys was annoyed by her brother’s inattentiveness. He seemed so far away like a stature. He had been this pensive since Robb had left them to go back to the keep. Now she was worried that something had happened between the boys.

“Prince Jaehaerys?”, the tailor looked at her brother insecurely as he was staring at a gown for an unspecific amount of time now.

Rhaenys for her part smiled at the man and made sure she would be receiving her order. “Thank you Master Buckston for your service.”, she smiled sticky sweet the way she knew people liked her too. “We will look thru your assortment a bit further before we leave, see if anything else catches our eye.”

The man bowed deep, thanked her for her business, and took the hint to assist some other noble that had been set aside for the royal children. When no one was paying them much attention anymore, she elbowed Jon between his ribs.

“Ow-!” He looked like a kicked puppy. How did she end up with two so soft little brothers? But the troubled look in his face didn’t change much. It had to be serious than-

“ _Valonqar, Avy jorrāelan_.”, her family's old tongue left her lips like a secret song. Even here in the city only a few spoke or understood the almost forgotten language. Many nobles did not care to acquire the knowledge and even in the Citadel not ever Maester learned it these days. It was a safe option to ask Jon about his troubles discreetly in public.

“ _Just tell me what troubles you and we can try to work it out together._ ”, she meant what she was saying. In the past, it had been proven time and time again that the three of them, worked best together and that if one of them brooded over their problems alone, they usually ended up in more trouble.

Jon took her arm again as they walked thru isles of lace and satin and pretended to look at it. Well, she was almost sure Jon actually stopped by the pale blue lace fabric to inspect it further. Was he thinking about buying it for Sansa? It would suit her, but Jon should not choose a pattern by himself.

“ _Did you notice Sansa spending time with Joffrey, by any chance?_ ”

Taken aback by his question, Rhaenys grimaced. Who would spend their time with Joffrey Baratheon voluntarily? She could not think about anyone from the top of her head. Even his siblings seem to take the affection they showed him as a duty.

“ _Why do you ask?”_

Jon sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “ _They used to be engaged and according to Robb the Wolves suspected he was mistreating her. It was one of the reasons why it was called off_.”

He was careful to not use any surnames. Speaking in a foreign tongue (and Valyrian was one still after all) and mentioning noble families was a dangerous mixture for all kind of rumors. Rumors that stuck.

“ _You think he is mistreating her in the palace?_ ”

That would be a whole scandal. The heir of a warden abusing the bride of a royal prince in the King’s Keep… If it was the case, was the Baratheon brat really that stupid and arrogant? Sansa seemed to be a rather sweet and trusting girl, that loved stories and songs. Was it really so far fetched that someone would use that characteristic against her?

Was that that the reason she didn’t seem to able to open up to Jon than? Was she afraid to be fooled?

Rhaenys' head was swimming now too, but there was hot rage, crawling thru her veins like an ancient dragon. What was it about Lords and their abuse of girls? Why did so many of them think they were entitled to the people around them?

Gods, in moments like this she missed Dorne and her uncles the most. A man like Joffrey Baratheon would not survive long amongst her people.

“ _We will find a solution_.”, She stroked his hair and kissed his brow like she had done a million times since baby Jon been brought home. He leaned into her and her heart melted a bit.

(What would she do without her sweet baby brothers on the Iron Islands?)

“ _kirimvose, mandia_ ”, he smiled and she actually made him buy a dress for Sansa.

__

When back at the palace Rhaenys didn’t really have time to think much about Sansa Stark and Joffrey Baratheon, as she was scheduled to have tea with Theon.

Theon… She could not say that she liked him much so far. He was arrogant and full of himself in the most obnoxious way. And he had lovers. She was not sure if he was going to be a good friend to her, not to mention a good husband.

But it was what it was, for the time being anyway. She knew that her father was dead-set on marrying her off to him and that there was no changing his mind when it came to magic and prophecy. She had to make the best out of it. Because begging the King to solve the betrothal, was the last thing she would do.

They could force her to marry, they could force her to perform the duties that those things entailed, but she could leave him after given him an heir, right…? Her aunt had done it and Uncle Doran was a better man.

Since she had a reputation to uphold, she made sure to change into something more suitable for tea, than her riding habit. She settled on a gold shimmering silk dress with golden jewelry to compliment it. Bracelets, sun-shaped hairpins, delicate chains for her neck.

The pavilion they were meeting in was located in one of the keeps many gardens and gave them shelter from the sun.

Theon stood when she walked up to him, his dark eyes shining mischievously and the grin on his lips was both dangerous and enticing. When he took her hand to plant a kiss on it, smoothly and swiftly, she had to smile too.

His lips were warm on her skin but that was all as far as the sensation was going and she wished he would let go soon. His tunic was light and worked with golden threads as it depicted a great Kraken in the sea. They were matching she noticed.

He was charming, she never said he wasn’t. Just at this point, she was not sure as to trust him or not. Mother had trusted Rhaegar to be a good husband, to protect her, and see where it had brought her. She could not let her guard down. “Your Highness, you are beautiful as ever.”, he said as she sat.

“And you are as flattering as ever.”, the retort was easy and safe. The servants around them were swarming, set the table with finely worked porcelain cups, painted with golden details. Her dress was highly appropriate today as it seemed.

“Tell me about Winterfell, Theon.”, she said to have an easy topic of conversation to start with. They would be leaving soon… When would she see Aegon again? She didn’t even leave yet, and she missed him already.

“It is a great castle, your highness. But I am not sure if the vast north is an exciting place for a Princess like you.”

“A Princess like me?”, she was curious what he thought about her and as a maid poured the hot and aromatic tea, she leaned a bit over the table to him. “And please call me Rhaenys when we are alone.” It was what was expected of her.

“Well, Rhaenys, I am sure that Jon would enjoy it there. The snow, the wilderness, the nothingness… A great place to brood. You know the Starks can be lucky if a singer finds his way up north at all. A fact that made Sansa very unhappy as a child and Arya didn’t care as long as she didn’t have to dance.”

As he talked about the Stark girls, his smile became softer and less superficial. It was refreshing.

“I am just afraid that you will bore easily as you are accustomed to glamourous locations like Sunspear and King’s Landing.”

“You think King’s Landing is glamourous?”, she had to bite back her laughter, but he just grinned at her still. Have you seen the filth in the street? The decay?” She took a sip of her tea. When were the cakes brought to their table? She hadn’t noticed much. “But I suppose I will miss Dorne. Do you miss the Islands?”

It was a somewhat touchy subject, as Theon was a hostage of war, but they had to talk about those things eventually, so why not now?

And as if on command his face fell a bit. “I do.”, the answer was simple and for a moment she feared that this was all he was willing to share. “Seeing Asha here did help. If I am perfectly honest, I had forgotten her face. It has been so long…” He broke eye contact and busied himself with his own cup. “You don’t want to marry me, _Rhaenys_?”

She paused a moment, waiting for him to look at her again. “I don’t want to marry anyone.” It was the truth. “In our society, a husband has power over his wife. He can treat her like he wants, use her when he wants and cast her aside if he wants. I don’t want another person to decide my life for me. And before you say anything… You could be the most perfect husband in existence and we could be in love and it still would not change the situation.”

Now his expression was serious and earnest. The playful glint in his dark eyes gone. She appreciated that he was listening without judging. “A few weeks ago I would probably still be an asshole about that.” A servant glared at him for using such language in the Princess’ presence. She waved them off. “But seeing my sister again and seeing and hearing how her gender affects her position at my father’s court… I was angry at her, your Highness, because my Father seemed to prefer her and a lot of my fellow iron men didn’t take me seriously at first, said I was too fancy to be their Lord.

But the fact that I lost so much of our culture in my imprisonment.” He frowned, looking pained at his own words. “I never said that so straight forward, but I guess if we are to marry and to rule the Islands, there is a level of trust I have to extend to you.” She nodded. “I love the Stark kids like additional siblings. I barely remember my dead brothers, I had to get to know Asha all over again and for a prisoner of war Lord Stark has treated me more than kindly. But that doesn’t change the fact that they are not the family I was supposed to have. That doesn’t change the fact that I am a tool Lord Stark was to prepare so the King can use me to control the Islands and that makes the people mistrustful of me and my father resent me.

Now that I have met my sister again, I am very sure he plans on passing me over in the line of succession, the question is just if he manages to do that or not. But Asha can’t be Lord either so. And not to insult you, but the prospect of being married to you doesn’t take the pressure off if anything it makes it worse.

In the end, even though I find you very, _very_ attractive I have to say I don’t want to marry you either. I guess you deserve better than the mess that is my claim…”

She put her empty cup aside.

“I am attractive.”, the words were as light as she could muster them to be and the small huff of laughter he breathed into his cup was some kind of progress. “But I do see where you come from. Let me guess: You think your sister would be better as your father’s heir and you feel bad because you got this burden because of tradition if you like it or not.”

Theon shot her a questioning look. “It is the way Aegon tried to explain his feelings to me a while back. He doesn’t want to be King either. I am more interested in politics than him and I guess all he ever wanted to do was sing and travel.”

“Traveling sounds nice.”, he raised a little blackberry cake and prompted her to do the same. She chose a honey cake and rolled her eyes as he clicked them together for a toast. “When we are married, I take you to see the seven Kingdoms before we are forced to settle down in my father's keep. We will start with Dorne. You can show me all the good spots to visit there.”

“I would like that very much.”, Maybe her future wasn’t so bleak then. There was a lot to look forward to. A year in Winterfell with Theon, Jon, and the Starks and then traveling. And her father could not forbid it, since her husband would allow it.

__

Late the walked to the gardens for a bit and Rhaenys pointed out the different flowers to him. This garden was created especially for her mother as a marriage gift and it had a bunch of dornish flowers that could stand the Crownland climate.

It was nice enough. Actually, the whole afternoon was way more enjoyable then she expected. When they were stopping by a plaza that had a big round flowerbed in the center, filled with sweet-scented roses with petals as dark as blood, she stopped unexpectedly though.

Confused Theon followed her gaze to find the Throne Prince, clad in rich reds, a rare smile on his face, and none other than Margaery Tyrell on his arm. Rhaenys saw the way the girl touched her brother and grinned her teeth.

There were many things that made Aegon similar to Rhaegar. His looks, his love for music, and the inclination for melancholy. What his sister didn’t need on that list is running away with someone else’s fiancé. Unfortunately, the thing he shared with their mother was his hopeless romanticism.

He had to audacity to look guilty. Right, he claimed to be in love with her on top of the first problem. Gods, help her, and give her strength.

The Tyrell girl turned to feign surprise and then curtsied to her. “Your Highness, what a pleasure to meet you and your fiancé here.” Rhaenys did not like her a bit. She was a schemer like her grandmother, just less subtle. And just as fake and power-hungry as most nobles at court. She was just wealthier and prettier than them…

Rhaenys trained her own fake smile and bowed her head, just barely. “Lady Margaery. How is my uncle? I heard you have seen him yesterday?”

Her smile flickered but to her credit, it did not falter. “He is well, Your Highness. Regrettable he seems to have no interest in marrying me. Prince Aegon was so gracious to comfort my over his neglect.”

“How polite of my baby brother. If you excuse us, I want to show a few things to Theon, and as you are aware my schedule is full.”

“Of course, Your Highness.”

When she passed Aegeon, she glared, just enough to make him uncomfortable. “ _Valonqar_.” He did not look her in the eyes. “ _I hope you are more careful than that_.”

Her good mood was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Valonqar, Avy jorrāelan - Little Brother, I love you.  
> *kirimvose, mandia - Thank you, Big Sister


	14. Brienne V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime stayed quiet and searched her face. His green eyes felt like they would burn into her soul. She did not dare to look away from him, but the attention left her with a weird thrill. It was a complicated relationship between them. And with Jaime being Awful, Disinterested, and Gentle in turn, she did not know how she should tread him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys!  
> I am sorry for not updating last week, but my shedule was pretty stressful and sleep-lacking, so I tought it better for me and the quality of this chapter to skip an update.
> 
> I hope you are all fine and still with me lol.  
> Have a good week end  
> -Aleks

The journey west was more enjoyable than she had initially thought, more importantly, it was quiet. There had been a carriage for her she guessed but Brienne would not leave horseback if she had the choice. Her new husband didn’t seem to mind her riding next to him. She did not bother him and he didn’t bother her.

Again it was a quiet and peaceful trek.

They barely talked to each other. Then again did they really had anything to say to each other?

She heard the Lannister guards talk about her when they thought she and Jaime could not hear. They called her _Brienne the Beauty_. Unfortunately, the old nickname stuck like loose glue. They man ridiculed her clothes, her looks, her lack of femininity. And they pitied Ser Jaime loudly for he had to bed her…

Gods, how could she not heat up at hearing their lewd comments? How would a woman react that had in fact lost her innocence on her wedding night?

She was sitting away from the main camp eating with a Lady in Waiting that was sent with her, a girl paid with Lannister money, she was sure. She seemed sweet enough but her presence was more burden than an easement. It didn’t help that she was not very slick about her interrogations.

It turned out that she was from house Lannett a former branch of House Lannister that had fallen into obscurity. Brienne had not been sure what a daughter of them was doing in the Crown Lands if Lady Cersei had so little love for them.

“So, my Lady..”, big eyes looked up to her, “Forgive my curiosity, but I noticed that you don’t share the tent with your husband…”

Brienne suppressed a sigh.

But Ser Jaime kind of saved her. “Miss, could I please have a word with my wife.”, he walked passed the girl and sat next to her. As she would not move, he shot her a pointed look. “Miss…” Brienne smiled thinly: “Winifred, give us a moment, please.”

The girl watched her husband for a moment more, but curtsied and did as she was bid anyway.

For a moment or two, they were sitting in silence, watching the woods around them. When Jaime finally spoke, she had almost forgotten, that he was next to her.

“My Lady, I hope you are well…”

“Please Ser, if you have to say anything, just do. I am tired and-“

_Uncomfortable?_

_Lonely?_

_Ridiculed?_

_Lost?_

Jaime stayed quiet and searched her face. His green eyes felt like they would burn into her soul. She did not dare to look away from him, but the attention left her with a weird thrill. It was a complicated relationship between them. And with Jaime being Awful, Disinterested, and Gentle in turn, she did not know how she should tread him.

_Did they love each other? No._

_Did they want this marriage? Also No._

_But could they do the best with the situation and become friends at least? Maybe, she was not sure._

In the end, he broke eye contact first. “Fine.” There he was again the cold and distant Ser Jaime. “I wanted to make sure that you are fine. I wanted to talk about our situation and how we will handle the meddling that will be happening as soon as we step foot into the Castle.”

Brienne sighed.

The now bitting tone of his voice made a headache press in the back of his head.

“I don’t know how you expect me to do anything about it… It is your home after all and I am just your wife here nothing more.”

Jaime starred again. A moment. Another one.

“My Lady, I don’t know if you want to spend your days in my company in the next few weeks. At least as much as I despise to be forced to be married.”

Now Brienne just frowned. “Ser, I told you again. I can’t just ignore you as much as you can’t ignore me. We both have to do as your father and the King bids. I had my own inheritance, my own household. My own castle and my own lands. Small and obscure but mine nonetheless. Now I am in a foreign house without friends, with a husband I don’t know and who does not want me.”

She rubbed her cheek, irritated.

“I understand that you don’t want this. I do. By the gods, I do. But you are not the only one being thrown by this union.”, Brienne stood. “We should talk about details once we arrive. In private. Good night, Ser.”

With a last raise of her chin, she left him to see Winifred. Her tiresome gossiping was preferable to Ser Jaime’s mood swings.

__

The castle was regal, looking over its lands on the cliff. The Lannisters were an ancient house she knew. But being here now was a completely different experience.

“My Lord and Lady of Lannister.”

The Measter Creylen was a thin-looking man, but he smiled at her anyway. He was one of the people in their small welcoming committee. A few more guardsmen, the master at arms a bulky man, and a few female servants.

The woman, the head maid of the castle, introduced herself as Etta. She was a strict looking woman that reminded Brienne of her Septa. But it was apparent that she had been running Lord Tywin’s household.

Winifred and Etta helped her to settle herself and her belongings into the chambers that were prepared for her. It was a tall bedroom with a study and a drawing-room. It was all held in warm brown, regal crimson, and rich golden detailing. She missed her home now more than ever.

A small voice in the back of her head whispered that it would take long for her to return.

“My Lady!”, Winifred gasped as she saw the crimson dress that was laid out on her bed. It was fine work, but the corset that was going with the fine garment left her sick. “It is beautiful.”, she said noncommittally. “Please, put it away for a more fitting occasion.”

Was she to write Lord Tywin to thank him? It was the polite thing to do sure.

She hopped down on her bed when the dress was put away. Winifred stole confused glances in her direction. “Why didn’t you want to wear the dress now? Show the castle who the new Lady Lannister is. Your husband will be the next Lord eventually.”

“Winifred…”

“Yes, my Lady?”

The girl was a bit older than her, maybe twenty. She was slim, small and delicate, with a nice complexion, her eyes were dark a pretty contrast, her hair long and shinning. She was hopeful for the future and her part that she would play with the Lannisters now.

“Please let them draw a bath for me.”

The ride had been long and she craved to feel a little less disgusting. And then it was already relatively late. “Please call for my husband as soon as we are finished.”

As it turned out it would be another two days or so before Brienne saw Jaime longer than just dinner and a few passing pleasantries. Her bed was comfortable but empty.

__

Jaime met her in his study, which was a bit bigger than hers and the desk was already clattered with documents and letters. Jaime was waiting for her, also changed and freshened up.

“First I wanted to ask you if we couldn’t postpone our strategizing meeting even further as I would like to know where I am standing with you and your family.”

Jaime just nodded and gestured her to take a seat across from him. Jaime snatched a piece of parchment away from her before she could read its contents and stuff it into one of the drawers- She frowned. It was not that she snooped on purpose and if he didn’t want her to see, maybe he should have cleaned before asking her in.

“They want us to share a room, Ser.”

The statement was not necessary, but Brienne needed something to fill the air with. The foreign keep was already weighing down on her. In the last few days, she was cornered by what little household was remaining here. They either wanted her to make a decision, “ _because there hadn’t been a real Lady Lannister in so long_.”

How they were saying it made Brienne hear that there still wasn’t. That she was not a true Lannister, and she didn’t feel it to be honest. Lady Joanna’s shoes seemed to be big ones to fill. Actually, before coming here, she didn’t even think about the fact that Tywin was a Widower.

And the way some older staff was remembering her, Tywin seemed to have been hopelessly in love with his cousin. She imagined the hard man she knew and attempted to align him, with the husband the people were hinting at. The Lord Lannister who would have stolen the Stars themselves only to see his Joanna smile.

It also told her that Cersei never cared for this castle, as she had in Evenfall. To be fair to her new good sister, Brienne was ultimately brought up as her father’s heir. While Cersei didn’t seem to be much more to Tywin than the marriage she landed.

Of course, there was also the fact that Brienne did not feel comfortable with changing anything while the current Lord was not there. It was what his wife left behind and if he had really loved her like it was whispered to her… It was a risk she was not willing to take…

Should she ask Jaime about his mother?

Was that appropriate?

The other people at the Rock that didn’t want her to change things, well, it felt like an interrogation. There were the women and girls that wanted her to talk about her marriage bed… about Jaime in their marriage bed…

It set her whole face on fire again and if she wasn’t so desperate to be accepted she would have probably reacted even more scandalized.

There were also servants that were definitely spies. She just could not tell if they reported to Lord Tywin or Cersei or other suiters her husband used to have.

She looked up to ser Jaime again. She still called him Ser. _Husband_ felt wrong and just _Jaime_ too intimate. To her surprise, Jaime laughed. It was small and huffed, but it was there. “Of course they want us to sleep in the same room. My Father wants an heir. He wants his bloodline and legacy to be continued.”

Again Brienne deliberated if she should ask about his mother. It felt too much like an intrusion. Jaime would not ask about her mother…

He took her hand instead. “We can go to your rooms. If it is appropriate for me to leave, you know I just return to my rooms.”

“How long-?”, Brienne didn’t finish the sentence. “Don’t worry about it…”

That was no way to continue this charade if Lord Tywin did want a grandson so bad. They needed an annulment or they needed to lay with each other…

She sighed and vanished behind a dressing screen the minute they were entering the room again. She still felt watched. But it still didn’t matter that much, because Brienne knew that Jaime had no interest in her or her naked body. She loosened the laces of her dress, thankful that it wasn’t a difficult one to undress from. Then she put on the longest sleeping gown she owned. As if the additional fabric would put more distance between her and Jaime.

When she poked her head back out, she came face to face with her husband’s bare back. Muscles contracting as he was sorting thru something. Pale, scared skin… It made her mouth run dry, her stomach swooped and before she could come to terms with the way her body reacted, Jaime pulled a sleep shirt over his head.

He was attracted. She knew that. And this was not the first time she noticed it. But she liked to think that she was above those things. If she was really honest with herself, it did affect her. She was human after all.

After another heartbeat, she came forth and without many words, they crawled in the sheets facing each other.

In a way, it felt a bit like their wedding night, just this time Jaime was not drunk, just a bit exhausted. He asked her a few questions about the places of the keep she had already seen, about her expectations. There wasn’t much for her to expect though.

Before she knew she drifted off into sleep again, Jaimes warm body next to her, a comfort of sorts.

But when she woke up the next morning, she was alone again. He had left in the night just like he had promised.


	15. Jaime VI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a while, he turned and watched his wife sleep in a totally non-creepy way. He wished he could be her age again. Young, hopeful for the future. Idealistic and striving for greatness. Jaime would hate to have a front-row seat to see that light being destroyed.

Jaime’s patience was already running thin and his day hadn’t even properly started yet. He was back at the Rock for not even a week yet and his family was already harassing him from leagues away.

There was the letter Cersei had written to him. His Cersei, that he hadn’t seen since his wedding feast. He missed her, but he was already incredibly annoyed and angry with her petty behavior. And what if he did fall asleep next to his wife on their wedding night? He did not fuck her.

And even if he did… She was his wife and it had been their wedding night! It was expected of him that he fucked her at some point… Cersei had not been averse to the idea of bedding Robert before he started to cheat and become fat.

She out of all people should understand what kind of pressure was being put on him.

When he had been a Kingsguard, their life had been easy, clean cut. He didn’t have to listen to his father’s disdain as often as the old Lion spent most of his time brooding here. Then in the capital and he was close to Cersei. It had been good, even with Robert there. But now he didn’t know what his future held.

Would he be able to cast his wife aside, even when their marriage had been a royal order?

Would he have to bed her eventually?

(Would that destroy the feeble peace between them, that had built itself recently?)

_Jaime,_

_I hope you had fun on your wedding night, fucking your ugly oaf of a wife.  
I guess now we have even more in common? Between the man-woman and Robert, fate seems to take the twin thing a bit too serious…_

_You are probably not even aware of how angered I am. You left me! My daughter will leave me soon too and Joffrey is supposed to marry that awfully plain girl and you have the audacity to get your dick wet anyway._

_Do you really think father would accept this woman’s children as heirs?_

_Do you think she will ever love you after all the despicable things you did all your life?_

_Sweet brother, you have to remember the people who love you… **Really love you** and you have to stop this insult against our family._

_I hope you remember what really matters._

_With love,  
Your twin._

The letter had arrived yesterday already. And Jaime had snatched away from Brienne. His sister’s insults were somewhat embarrassing to him. At least he didn’t want the girl to read this. He had understood by now that Brienne didn’t want him as much as he didn’t want her. It was not fair to her either. And at the end of all arguments, they were married and had to make the best with what they had.

To his annoyance, three other letters had joined Cersei’s after he had retired yesterday. One from his father, one from Tyrion, and one from his uncle Kaevan . He actually wanted to read his brother’s and ignore the rest. But since he was now acting Lord, he really couldn’t…

_Son,_

_I hope you arrived well and your wife finds the arrangements we made for her agreeable.  
With that, I want to remind you of your duty to our house. I don’t care if you want or love your wife. I don’t care if you hate her, you will bed her and if I need to stand by your bed every night to make sure you do._

_I will not accept one of your brother’s bastards as heir and I will not let your incompetence make us lose our right to your cousins!_

_I order you to spend more time with her, woo he, bed her.  
Do what it takes!_

_Tywin._

There was a headache building in the back of his head. _Woo his wife_. Like she didn’t hate him already. He could be lucky if they became friends someday, but he could not imagine sleeping with anyone but Cersei.

He was furious with her, but at the end of it all, she was his other half, without her he was incomplete and he was afraid that he would start blaming his wife for keeping them apart. When she didn’t even know.

That was a problem he had to face eventually the question of an heir, but it was not today.

_Dear Jaime,_

_I congratulate you on your wedding. I pray for you to find happiness with your wife and hope you soon receive the gift of fatherhood._

_We hope to come back to the Rock soon to extend our best wishes in person and I need to discuss some business regarding the harbor, but that can wait until we arrive._

_We will come by estimably two weeks after you receive this letter. We trust my wife and I can inhabit our old quarters, just as I want you to choose new once for Lancel and his wife._

_Until then,  
Your Uncle._

He groaned as he leaned back. He really didn’t need an official visit from a vessel, that doubled as a family visit. But here he was. He needed to inform his wife then. Because she would be responsible to plan their stay.

Jaime was not used to a Lord's duty as it was. His lessons had been a while back and he had not even been good with half the stuff. after years of serving, he now had to reign and his father expected him to 10 other things next to it?

After a moment just managing his anger. He finally opened Tyrion’s letter with the feeble hope that his brother would put him in a better mood. But he seriously doubted it.

_My brother dear,_

_I hope you are well, but knowing you as well as I do: That is probably not the case. Anyway a foul can hope._

_Father is suspicious of the legitimacy of your wedding night. He thinks you did not deflower your lovely wife on the sole basis that you (well all of us) usually don’t do what he wants. I thought you’d like to be made aware of that, brother dear._

_Speaking of my lovely good sister, I trust you extent my greetings to her._

_Say the word and I come over to assist you with some of your duties. Being stuck in the capitol with father and Cersei is not very entertaining and I am sure my favorite girls are already missing me. Just let me know._

_Your devoted brother,  
Tyrion_

Jaime was both amused and troubled by the letter. Did Tywin order him to indulge his wife to make sure he didn’t lie? How much time did he have, before he was forced to bed Brienne? Would Cersei forgive him?

His head was swimming with all the things he had to do and consider so he shoved all the letters back into a random drawer and started to write a list of all them that he could complete in the next few days.

He leaned back and closed his eyes for a moment or two because his eyelids were burning. When he opened them again, the sun had risen. And he hadn’t felt that exhausted in quiet a while. Rubbing his face, he heard a knock on his door.

When he asked them in Etta squeezed herself in and curtsied quickly. “My Lord, I have received a letter from your Lord Father. I hereby inform you that I was instructed to make sure you and the Lady spent an appropriate amount of time together.”

Jaime rolled his eyes but thanked the maid anyway. It was his father that paid her salary after all. “I guess I can be thankful that you are telling me at all.” The old maid nodded. “On that note, the Lady is waiting for you in the small hall. Breakfast is served.”

Brienne wore a pair of beige pants and a loose shirt in a similar neutral color. She got up and bowed to him. Jaime watched her for a moment. It was the first time since their ride west that his wife was wearing pants and he once again noticed how much better they suited her.

She would probably look powerful in a suit of armor and a prober longsword.

He sat opposite her and they sat in silence for a while as they ate.

“I got word from my uncle that he will visit us in two weeks’ time. I trust that you will prepare for their arrival, my Lady.”

She looked up to him with adorably wide eyes. “Of course, my Lord, but I have to confess that I don’t know much about your uncle’s family. His son is a squire for Lord Baratheon, right? And- Lancel is his name, right? He married Lady Amerei Frey because they were discovered to be soulmates even before the whole, well.” She stopped gingerly.

“Lancel has two brothers, they are fourteen and a toddler sister. I guess they are coming too.”

Brienne nodded again. “That won’t be a problem. I will get accustomed to the rooms here. I guess I see you this evening, my Lord.”

She stood and bowed and made her way Gods knew where. Jaime watched her go. And he just finished eating and ignored the curious glances. In the end, she did not owe him anything. He had his own problems, his own tasks to finish. She did not have to report everything she was doing to him. He didn’t want to be that kind of husband. At least these days.

__

His day had been long and painfully tedious.

There was a feud between two farmers that was bought before him today, people from Lannisport complaining about his kin in the city, and the harbor had been partly destroyed in a storm that had occurred while they had been on the way here.

More than anything people wanted money. (But what else was new?)

He still hadn’t answered any of his family’s letters either…

Jaime was just not cut out for the work of a Lord.

He decided this when he met his wife to go to bed in her bed, for appearance sake. He knew he had promised her to discuss the problem their celibate marriage was for the future of their life together but to be perfectly honest: He just wanted some peace and quiet.

Brienne did not mention any more of that topic, which he was glad for. Instead, his wife moved to undress behind the changing screen. Jaime tried not to linger on her shadowy form too long. It was weird. Instead, he busied himself with putting on his own sleepshirt.

“How was your day, my Lord?”

The sudden sound of her voice startled him. Sure, they talked before his wife falls asleep, but it was usually about his experience as a knight. As that was the only thing that seemed too interested her about him. They never talked about their day and worries. (Like real couples) Did he give her reason to worry?

“Long.”, he answered noncommittal, which only earned him a dark glare as she peeked from behind the dressing screen, shoulders bare. The sight was adorable enough to make him smile. When she came forth and caught him laughing at him, his wife towered over him with, again adorable, annoyance. It should probably bother him more. “More interesting, what did you do today, my Lady?”

Sighing as if he was the most annoying person in the world, she sat atop the covers, the blue color of her nightgown accenting her the candlelight in her eyes. Jaime decided that she looked better in Tarth colors than Lannister colors.

“I spent some time with the Ladies of the Keep as it is my duty now. My needlework is adequate but some of the girls here have real talent.” He sat next to her and tried to remember what unmarried girls lived here these days. Gods, he should keep better track of those things.

“I went to the Godswood. It is such a unique experience to have a garden in a cave. Winifred and I plan on visiting the town sometime in the next few days, as we need to find some things for the arrival of your uncle's family.”

Jaime laid next to her and listen intently. To him, the cave system was nothing special anymore but it was something else to listen to someone experience it for the first time. The wonder in blue eyes and the way her mouth stretched in amusement when she talked about something funny.

It made him miss Cersei. A bit at least, she was usually the person he fell asleep next to. Right now after being separated after years together, he missed her like a lost limb. But the thought of her only reserviced his anger, so he disregarded the train of thought.

__

He lied awake long after Brienne had fallen asleep, too nervous to go to his own bed, too tired and frustrated to get his head clear enough to think. So, he just lay there.

And suffered.

_Burn them all._

Jaime’s patience was already running thin and his day hadn’t even properly started yet. He was back at the Rock for not even a week yet and his family was already harassing him from leagues away.

There was the letter Cersei had written to him. His Cersei, that he hadn’t seen since his wedding feast. He missed her, but he was already incredibly annoyed and angry with her petty behavior. And what if he did fall asleep next to his wife on their wedding night? He did not fuck her.

And even if he did… She was his wife and it had been their wedding night! It was expected of him that he fucked her at some point… Cersei had not been averse to the idea of bedding Robert before he started to cheat and become fat.

She out of all people should understand what kind of pressure was being put on him.

When he had been a Kingsguard, their life had been easy, clean cut. He didn’t have to listen to his father’s disdain as often as the old Lion spent most of his time brooding here. Then in the capital and he was close to Cersei. It had been good, even with Robert there. But now he didn’t know what his future held.

Would he be able to cast his wife aside, even when their marriage had been a royal order?

Would he have to bed her eventually?

(Would that destroy the feeble peace between them, that had built itself recently?)

_Jaime,_

_I hope you had fun on your wedding night, fucking your ugly oaf of a wife.  
I guess now we have even more in common? Between the man-woman and Robert, fate seems to take the twin thing a bit too serious…_

_You are probably not even aware of how angered I am. You left me! My daughter will leave me soon too and Joffrey is supposed to marry that awfully plain girl and you have the audacity to get your dick wet anyway._

_Do you really think father would accept this woman’s children as heirs?_

_Do you think she will ever love you after all the despicable things you did all your life?_

_Sweet brother, you have to remember the people who love you… **Really love you** and you have to stop this insult against our family._

_I hope you remember what really matters._

_With love,  
Your twin._

The letter had arrived yesterday already. And Jaime had snatched away from Brienne. His sister’s insults were somewhat embarrassing to him. At least he didn’t want the girl to read this. He had understood by now that Brienne didn’t want him as much as he didn’t want her. It was not fair to her either. And at the end of all arguments, they were married and had to make the best with what they had.

To his annoyance, three other letters had joined Cersei’s after he had retired yesterday. One from his father, one from Tyrion, and one from his uncle Kaevan . He actually wanted to read his brother’s and ignore the rest. But since he was now acting Lord, he really couldn’t…

_Son,_

_I hope you arrived well and your wife finds the arrangements we made for her agreeable.  
With that, I want to remind you of your duty to our house. I don’t care if you want or love your wife. I don’t care if you hate her, you will bed her and if I need to stand by your bed every night to make sure you do._

_I will not accept one of your brother’s bastards as heir and I will not let your incompetence make us lose our right to your cousins!_

_I order you to spend more time with her, woo he, bed her.  
Do what it takes!_

_Tywin._

There was a headache building in the back of his head. _Woo his wife_. Like she didn’t hate him already. He could be lucky if they became friends someday, but he could not imagine sleeping with anyone but Cersei.

He was furious with her, but at the end of it all, she was his other half, without her he was incomplete and he was afraid that he would start blaming his wife for keeping them apart. When she didn’t even know.

That was a problem he had to face eventually the question of an heir, but it was not today.

_Dear Jaime,_

_I congratulate you on your wedding. I pray for you to find happiness with your wife and hope you soon receive the gift of fatherhood._

_We hope to come back to the Rock soon to extend our best wishes in person and I need to discuss some business regarding the harbor, but that can wait until we arrive._

_We will come by estimably two weeks after you receive this letter. We trust my wife and I can inhabit our old quarters, just as I want you to choose new once for Lancel and his wife._

_Until then,  
Your Uncle._

He groaned as he leaned back. He really didn’t need an official visit from a vessel, that doubled as a family visit. But here he was. He needed to inform his wife then. Because she would be responsible to plan their stay.

Jaime was not used to a Lord's duty as it was. His lessons had been a while back and he had not even been good with half the stuff. after years of serving, he now had to reign and his father expected him to 10 other things next to it?

After a moment just managing his anger. He finally opened Tyrion’s letter with the feeble hope that his brother would put him in a better mood. But he seriously doubted it.

_My brother dear,_

_I hope you are well, but knowing you as well as I do: That is probably not the case. Anyway a foul can hope._

_Father is suspicious of the legitimacy of your wedding night. He thinks you did not deflower your lovely wife on the sole basis that you (well all of us) usually don’t do what he wants. I thought you’d like to be made aware of that, brother dear._

_Speaking of my lovely good sister, I trust you extent my greetings to her._

_Say the word and I come over to assist you with some of your duties. Being stuck in the capitol with father and Cersei is not very entertaining and I am sure my favorite girls are already missing me. Just let me know._

_Your devoted brother,  
Tyrion_

Jaime was both amused and troubled by the letter. Did Tywin order him to indulge his wife to make sure he didn’t lie? How much time did he have, before he was forced to bed Brienne? Would Cersei forgive him?

His head was swimming with all the things he had to do and consider so he shoved all the letters back into a random drawer and started to write a list of all them that he could complete in the next few days.

He leaned back and closed his eyes for a moment or two because his eyelids were burning. When he opened them again, the sun had risen. And he hadn’t felt that exhausted in quiet a while. Rubbing his face, he heard a knock on his door.

When he asked them in Etta squeezed herself in and curtsied quickly. “My Lord, I have received a letter from your Lord Father. I hereby inform you that I was instructed to make sure you and the Lady spent an appropriate amount of time together.”

Jaime rolled his eyes but thanked the maid anyway. It was his father that paid her salary after all. “I guess I can be thankful that you are telling me at all.” The old maid nodded. “On that note, the Lady is waiting for you in the small hall. Breakfast is served.”

Brienne wore a pair of beige pants and a loose shirt in a similar neutral color. She got up and bowed to him. Jaime watched her for a moment. It was the first time since their ride west that his wife was wearing pants and he once again noticed how much better they suited her.

She would probably look powerful in a suit of armor and a prober longsword.

He sat opposite her and they sat in silence for a while as they ate.

“I got word from my uncle that he will visit us in two weeks’ time. I trust that you will prepare for their arrival, my Lady.”

She looked up to him with adorably wide eyes. “Of course, my Lord, but I have to confess that I don’t know much about your uncle’s family. His son is a squire for Lord Baratheon, right? And- Lancel is his name, right? He married Lady Amerei Frey because they were discovered to be soulmates even before the whole, well.” She stopped gingerly.

“Lancel has two brothers, they are fourteen and a toddler sister. I guess they are coming too.”

Brienne nodded again. “That won’t be a problem. I will get accustomed to the rooms here. I guess I see you this evening, my Lord.”

She stood and bowed and made her way Gods knew where. Jaime watched her go. And he just finished eating and ignored the curious glances. In the end, she did not owe him anything. He had his own problems, his own tasks to finish. She did not have to report everything she was doing to him. He didn’t want to be that kind of husband. At least these days.

__

His day had been long and painfully tedious.

There was a feud between two farmers that was bought before him today, people from Lannisport complaining about his kin in the city, and the harbor had been partly destroyed in a storm that had occurred while they had been on the way here.

More than anything people wanted money. (But what else was new?)

He still hadn’t answered any of his family’s letters either…

Jaime was just not cut out for the work of a Lord.

He decided this when he met his wife to go to bed in her bed, for appearance sake. He knew he had promised her to discuss the problem their celibate marriage was for the future of their life together but to be perfectly honest: He just wanted some peace and quiet.

Brienne did not mention any more of that topic, which he was glad for. Instead, his wife moved to undress behind the changing screen. Jaime tried not to linger on her shadowy form too long. It was weird. Instead, he busied himself with putting on his own sleepshirt.

“How was your day, my Lord?”

The sudden sound of her voice startled him. Sure, they talked before his wife falls asleep, but it was usually about his experience as a knight. As that was the only thing that seemed too interested her about him. They never talked about their day and worries. (Like real couples) Did he give her reason to worry?

“Long.”, he answered noncommittal, which only earned him a dark glare as she peeked from behind the dressing screen, shoulders bare. The sight was adorable enough to make him smile. When she came forth and caught him laughing at him, his wife towered over him with, again adorable, annoyance. It should probably bother him more. “More interesting, what did you do today, my Lady?”

Sighing as if he was the most annoying person in the world, she sat atop the covers, the blue color of her nightgown accenting her the candlelight in her eyes. Jaime decided that she looked better in Tarth colors than Lannister colors.

“I spent some time with the Ladies of the Keep as it is my duty now. My needlework is adequate but some of the girls here have real talent.” He sat next to her and tried to remember what unmarried girls lived here these days. Gods, he should keep better track of those things.

“I went to the Godswood. It is such a unique experience to have a garden in a cave. Winifred and I plan on visiting the town sometime in the next few days, as we need to find some things for the arrival of your uncle's family.”

Jaime laid next to her and listen intently. To him, the cave system was nothing special anymore but it was something else to listen to someone experience it for the first time. The wonder in blue eyes and the way her mouth stretched in amusement when she talked about something funny.

It made him miss Cersei. A bit at least, she was usually the person he fell asleep next to. Right now after being separated after years together, he missed her like a lost limb. But the thought of her only reserviced his anger, so he disregarded the train of thought.

__

He lied awake long after Brienne had fallen asleep, too nervous to go to his own bed, too tired and frustrated to get his head clear enough to think. So, he just lay there.

And suffered.

_Burn them all._

After a while, he turned and watched his wife sleep in a totally non-creepy way. He wished he could be her age again. Young, hopeful for the future. Idealistic and striving for greatness. Jaime would hate to have a front-row seat to see that light being destroyed.

In a way, it was comforting having a breathing body next to him. Brienne’s hair faltered fine on her pillow, shiny in the low-lit room, her long lashes fanning her cheek. He could have smiled at the sighed.

_Burn them all._

He stood after all and pulled on a random pair of pants. He was out the door before could waste a second thought on it. When he sat in his study and lit both the fire and a candle at his desk, he sorted out Cersei’s letter.

_~~Cersei,~~ _

_~~Love,~~ _

_~~My beloved sister,~~ _

_~~Dear,~~ _

_Cersei,_

_I think you know what happened that night. I was drunk you know that too.  
For you, I hope that no one else read that letter, as Father would also not like what you were writing about my wife._

_I don’t love her. I married her for duty. ~~She is too young for me anyway~~. It was an order and I complied as good as I could, as my conscience could permit. _

_Cersei, you are my sister and I love you._

_I also know you worry about our Myrcella, but I think you don’t give her enough credit. She is a smart and stunning girl just like you were. ~~Robb Stark is a better man than Robert Baratheon~~. Keep believing in her and maybe she will make it work._

_Joffrey will be the Lord of Storm’s End someday. He has to marry. You can’t keep him to yourself forever. He doesn’t have to see his future wife if he doesn’t want to. Just like me._

_Your devoted twin  
Jaime._

It was what it was. He wanted to say so much more than this format would permit. Still, after all this time they had to be careful.

He took another sheet.

_Tyrion,_

_Thank you for the warning. I will do something about it.  
Father has a way to be suspicious._

_I wish I could have you here, but I also don’t think that Father would permit you to come here without any reason._

And on a whim:

_Didn’t you want to see the wall some of these days? I think we both worry about Myrcella going with the Starks, as there is still bad blood between our families. How about you go with her? Give it a thought._

He could ask, right?

Myrcella was a sweet girl and during his last few days in Kingslanding, she had been such a comfort. She was his daughter…

_Regards,  
Jaime_

Then he read over his father’s letter again.

“Ser Jaime?”

He looked up startled. His wife stood by the door, wrapped in a dark cloak and bleary-eyed. She drew closer. “What are you doing so late at night?” Shrugging Jaime used the time to drop the letter. “I couldn’t sleep, I guess. Thought I might get something done as well.” She put a tentative hand on his shoulder, careful not to touch skin.

“Now is really not the time.”, she said.

“Are you really going to argue with me right now?”

A small, pretty smile on her face. “No, I won’t, my Lord. We are both too tired for that.” She pulled at him and he actually got up for her. Suddenly he could not keep his eyes open. “How about I tell you stories about Tarth until you fall asleep and we work those problems out tomorrow.” When he opened his mouth, (and mind you, he didn’t even want to argue, but how would she know?) she interjected.

“I was trained as heir too, remember? I think we can do that, just not after midnight.”

Jaime let her walk him back to her rooms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told you all that I will make this a slow burn


	16. Margaery I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gift was more for his bad conscious than her forgiveness. She was used to him making promises on a whim he could or would not keep, it was fine. She was used to it. He would spend time around the royal family again to gain the King’s favor and leave her in her grandmother’s care until he felt guilty enough again to spoil her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!  
> I am sorry that I had a break without any warning. A few things happened all at once and it made updating a bit difficult. (For one I strained my ankle pretty weirdly and I had to have a cast)
> 
> I hope yall are ready for more now anyway

She twirled in the beautiful new dress her father had bought her. Smiling Margaery moved to kiss Lord Tyrell on his round cheek. “Thank you, Father.”, she chirped pleasantly. He had ‘neglected his only and young daughter in favor of his service to the King and he bought her the fine new dress to apologize’. His words not her.

The dress in question was no ball gown but only a casual look, still it was worked with careful detail and the fabric was soft and exquisite. Marge doubted that her Father would devote more time to her now. The gift was more for his bad conscious than her forgiveness. She was used to him making promises on a whim he could or would not keep, it was fine. She was used to it. He would spend time around the royal family again to gain the King’s favor and leave her in her grandmother’s care until he felt guilty enough again to spoil her.

She did not blame him. Marge knew her grandmother’s and Father’s ambitious well. She played a vital part in them.

Marge moved on eventually to meet the other ladies in the sewing circle. She liked the attention she received from young girls and seasoned ladies alike. Sure, she was not the Princess Rhaenys, but she was popular, nonetheless.

At the door to the drawing room of the Princess’ Margaery was confronted with her betrothed and Soulmate, Prince Viserys. Inwardly she sighed. The Prince treated her more like a nuisance than a fiancé. A notion she kind of understood? He had expected to marry his sister, to keep their magic bloodline pure, everyone knew. But his brother and king had other plans with all of them. It was whispered behind closed doors, that Viserys had wanted the crown for years now that he fancied himself more deserving than his nephews and niece, who were not full blooded Targaryens. He seemed to believe that the non-incest relationships would run their line in the ground.

As he could not openly discard King Rhaegars orders, he accepted his betrothal, but he could ignore her. Just because they would wed didn’t mean he had to woo her. This was a good match for her. But Marge hated that the red rose blooming on her wrist dictated her future.

If her grandmother would make a match for her, she could at least pride herself in serving her family. right now, she was mistreated for nothing it seemed like.

Even So, she curtsied to him, smiling bright and pretty. Just as it was expected of her.

“My Prince, I hope you are well today.”, then she turned to Princess Daenerys, the poor girl was now ignored by most nobles as she had a female Soulmate. “Princess, it is good to see you!” Viserys mumbled a greeting and pushed past her pulling an annoyed Daenerys with him. The girl complained to him as she had been in the process to talk to Margaery and she wanted to go sew, but he did not let go.

Margaery watched them go with concern for herself and the Princess.

Deep down she was afraid. Viserys seemed dangerous, not even concerned with her wellbeing in any way, shape or form. Would he hurt her, when she was her wife? Would he even care about any suffering that he might inflict on her? Could her grandmother safe her from this?

“Lady Margaery?”

She turned rather startled, but a pleasant smile graced her face out of habit. Did it reach her eyes? Who knows? It was Prince Aegon, who watched her with soft lilac eyes. He wore a magnificent purple jacket with polished silver details and his long silver hair was kept up by a silk ribbon in the same color. Her eyes flickered to his exposed collar bones for a split second.

Then her smile grew a bit more sincere, as she looked him in the eyes. She shouldn’t be so distracted. Her Grandmother had hinted that she would like Margaery to become closer to the crown prince, but it was a dangerous idea, as the Princess Rhaenys seemed to distrust her and the King had other plans for her.

“Your Highness.”, she fell into a sharp courtesy again. “I am quiet alright. I just wished your uncle a good morning.”

Aegon didn’t seem to believe her, but he didn’t say anything further. Only now did he notice the small pile of clothing in his arm. “Do you need us to mend your wardrobe, your Highness?”

Laughing a bit embarrassed the Prince rubbed his neck. “I found holes and some wear on those shirts and it would be wasteful not to fix them.”, he explained. “I am sure your sister and the other Ladies will gladly repair them for you. Do you have any wishes for embroidery?”

Smoothing the soft fabric of a plain white shirt, he smiled at her, eyes shining thru long, pale eyelashes. “I guess you are good at embroidery roses?” Margaery could not help to roll her eyes. It was unlady-like but it was the only way she could express her amusement at his bad joke. “Oh yes, do you need a shirt with a golden Tyrell rose, my Prince?”

His smile grew a bit sly, a side of him she had never seen before. Their interactants up to this point were cool and polite, but this felt different, friendly. “I am more of a sunflower lad.”

“Aeg! Stop holding up the Lady and give that to me.” Rhaenys flickered a finger against her little brother’s forehead and the graceful crown princes whined his protest at that. Margaery should go see Loras later, speaking of older siblings.

“I am not keeping the Lady against her will. We were talking…”

After exchanging greetings with her the Princess took his clothes out of Aegon’s hands and directed Margaery inside, ignoring her brother.

“Please, don’t let Aegon keep you all the time, just because he feels guilty about our uncle’s behavior.”, Rhaenys smiled and handed her the shirt atop of Aegon’s pile. The white shirt. “You don’t have to indulge him if you don’t want to.”

“He is a royal prince.”, Margaery answered polite but noncommittal enough. “I don’t mind listen to his thoughts once in a while.”

She then proceeded to sit between Myrcella Baratheon and Sansa Stark as Rhaenys and the other Ladies picked up their work too. Margary selected a bright yellow yarn sunflowers it was.

__

A few hours later she found herself in the garden again, herself and her youngest brother flanking their complaining grandmother. They were on their way to a private spot where they would eat sweets and drink tea and-

And talked about how Margaery should become the new Queen.

Again, she was aware of the expectations catered to her by her family. She felt the same in the way that she sought power and influence. She could and would be a good Queen. It just saddened her that she might hurt Aegon on her way there, as she had found him to be rather pleasant and charming. But she was aware enough not to voice such soft girly inclinations.

As the pretty cushioned armchairs came in sight. They were intercepted by Cersei Lannister. The Lady of the Stormlands greeted her grandmother with barley concealed contempt. There was rivalry between their families as the Lannister were the most wealthy family in the realm and her the Lady Ornnela planed to take their place eventually.

Cersei once wanted to become Queen too and she was still beautiful, but the mad King had no mind for her beauty of wealth. Margaery would take great pleasure in accomplishing what she could not do.

“What do you want Cersei?”, her grandmother was no one for woman for false courtesy, Maybe it came with her old age. “You usually don’t come to me unless you have something to gloat about.”

Her pretty face broke into a sharp grin. “Why would you think that, my sweet Lady?”

Not waiting for an answer, she carried on throwing her golden hair over her shoulder. “My husband was so nice to inform me who his Majesty wants to appoint to his Kingsguard and since you son did not attend that meeting, I thought you might want to know…”

Lady Orlenna’s mouth formed a strict frown. Both her grandchildren knew that she was more than furious with their father.

Margaery’s heart sank. And her eyes darted to Loras because she knew what would be sad before it even left Lannister’s red lips.

Who had influenced this dicisioun other than Lord Tywin Lannister?

How could her father be so reckless as to neglect his duties to the King and in this case to Loras?

“It would be an honour to have his Majesty achknoladge my brothers talents.”, Margary forced another sticky smile, far more natural than Lady Lannister’s. This would take Loras life plans from him, but she would not let the woman see that she was angry.

“Didn’t you like to see your brother in the magnificent white cloak?”

Magaery was not quiet sure what she was doing, but it was known that Cersei hated the fact that her brother had been married to Lady Brienne. For she had taken comfort in his present in the city, since her own marriage was such an unhappy one. And well, Brienne’s looks were the subject of vile roumers too.

She knew her, a bit at least as she was Loras’ friend and Margaery felt for her, but the Lannister family’s wrath was something she would use now.

“Of course, girl, Jaime is the most dashing knights in the seven Kingdoms.”

“And here I was under the impression that Ser Arthur Dayne held that title.”, her grandmother’s gaze was sharper.

Cersei smiled painfully again: “ I shall take my leave as I have better things to do.”

“oh I am sure of that, Sweet.”, Lady Olenna rolled her eyes violently. “That one.”, she spat as she hurried to finally sit. “Plans something I am certain. Stupid girl thinks she has her father’s wit.”

“Grandmother!”, Margaery cheasted the old Queen of Thrones. “People can hear you!”


	17. Rhaenys III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Rhaenys…”, he sounded as exhausted as he looked. “I know what this is about, but please, leave me be. I know what I am doing.”
> 
> She did not believe him.
> 
> “Aegon! She is not good for you! Isn’t obvious that the girl only spends time with you because her father wants to pitch her as wife to the King-“, she stumbled over her own anger. “You know how the Reach treats our cousins-“
> 
> “Margaery is engaged.”, he answered calmly. It was the kind of dejected response Rhaenys would also get from her disinterested father; the kind of attitude that made her want to slap him. “I would not do this to our mother. Who do you think I am?”
> 
> The question was sharper than a knife.
> 
> I would not do this to your mother
> 
> ‘I am not Father.’
> 
> Aegon was not him. She needed to remember that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some more insight into Rhaenys' character and also the plot in KL thickens~

She had been waiting for him. Aegon emerged in the corridor to the Queen’s chambers wrapped in excellent yellow silk. Just like her, he was on his way to their mother’s bedroom. Queen Elia was better now, but her Maester still forbade her from leaving her rooms. Rhaenys was skeptical if this really happened for her mother’s benefit or because the King didn’t want her to be seen by the court.

Either way, Aeg and her were expected to break their fast with her and if they were lucky they could spent the whole morning with their mother.

Still, there was something that Rhaenys had to address before she could allow herself the small piece of happiness. “ _Valonqar_.” The word was more a treasured term of endearment than the langue of her Targaryen ancestors. Aegon fixed her with clever violet eyes. There was resignation there that made her irritation worse.

She was worried about him. Her concerns were not something he had to suffer thru and then ignore. Aegon had always been too soft and trusting for his own good. Could her foolish brother not see that she was only protecting him?

“Rhaenys…”, he sounded as exhausted as he looked. “I know what this is about, but please, leave me be. I know what I am doing.”

She did not believe him.

“Aegon! She is not good for you! Isn’t obvious that the girl only spends time with you because her father wants to pitch her as wife to the King-“, she stumbled over her own anger. “You know how the Reach treats our cousins-“

“Margaery is engaged.”, he answered calmly. It was the kind of dejected response Rhaenys would also get from her disinterested father; the kind of attitude that made her want to slap him. “I would not do this to our mother. Who do you think I am?”

The question was sharper than a knife.

I would not do this to your mother

‘I am not Father.’

Aegon was not him. She needed to remember that.

“So, you don’t deny being attracted to her.” It was not the thing he wanted her to focus on but Rhaenys didn’t want him to be a victim of politics, at least not on such a personal level. He brushed over his face with his fingers, clearly getting angry too. “What do you care? I won’t do anything.”

“Won’t you know? You have a track record when it comes to falling in love with the wrong people-“

“That is not fair!”

She knew she wasn’t but she rather has him angry now than heartbroken and used later. She was the oldest; she needed to protect her boys. Mother was too weak to do much anymore. The king didn’t care and their Uncles were too far away. Aegon and Jon had only her. But her face softened anyway. Her poor little brother.

“Don’t look at me like that!”, he hissed. Stepping closer to her to force eye contact. “You should not use that against me… It’s not my fault you don’t believe me when I tell you that I love you. Because Rhaenys I do! But you are my sister and I rather be quiet and still have you in my life than be nasty out of heartbreak. You know why? Because it is not your job to cater to my wants. I know that.”

His finger jabbed into her shoulder as his voice now shook in frustration. “But how dare you treat me like a little boy still! And what if I think Margaery is pretty? What if I pity her to being betrothed to Viserys of all people? It doesn’t mean anything, because I know my limits. Her family’s ambition doesn’t necessarily have to be her own and even if she is part of it. I will not indulge her- If you think I would, I don’t know what to tell you, since you think me such a low man. Let me have a friend for once!”

He walked past her. “We both know it will not last…”

Rhaenys bit her lip, to force herself to be silent.

The way she had breached the topic was regrettable, but there was not much she could do about it right now.

A deep breath and she turned to her mother’s bedroom.

Elia sat up in her bed, dark hair flowing down her back in glossy waves; her eyes were lit with adoration when she looked at her children. Rhaenys couldn’t help but smile back. The scene before her filled her heart with love.

Aegon sat on their mother’s side on the edge of the bed. Elia brushed a firm hand thru the Prince’s silver hair and caressing his face. He in turn was holding on to her free hand as a toddler might have. Why did it feel a bit like she was intruding? This was her family…

“Sunshine.”, Elia called for her daughter easily. The old term of endearment, warmed Rhaenys insides like scarcely anything could these days. Obediently she loved to her mother’s other side, to have the Queen trace her jaw tenderly and kiss her temple. “I am so glad I have a bit of time with you two. Should we eat on the balcony?”

A few moments later the three of them were seated by an ornated little wood table, hot tea, spiced milk, fresh bread, pickled vegetables, scrambled eggs, and soft cheese. It was smelling delicious and made Rhaenys stomach swoop.

“How was your day yesterday, my sweets?”

Rhaenys watched her mother eat with appetite and the reassurance that she was indeed better, made her finally ease completely into the situation. She bit into her meal, savoring the flavor. Aegon answered the question.

“I had a nice day. Jon, me, and some of the other young Lords went hunting yesterday. And I spent the evening with Dany reading by the fire.”

“Daenerys reads in quiet?”, Elia’s smile was brilliantly mischievous. A reminder that she was indeed related to Oberyn. “I hardly believe that. Since when is the girl capable of spending consecutive hours in peace like that? She has usually so many things on her mind.”

“She still had but she was interested enough in the history of Targaryen Princesses to indulge me for a bit.”, he smiled at that. Elia chuckled but her smile faltered a bit. “How is she holding up since she met the ironborn girl?”

“The girl is a woman grown and I for one am glad she is not talking to Dany.”, Rhaenys was not looking at her mother. She was starring at her half-eaten breakfast. Maybe she was actively wronging Asha Greyjoy and she was a good person. But all the oldest Princess could think about was her young Aunt’s uncertain future…

Aegon’s uncertain future…

A shivering breath and- A hand on her own made her look up again into Elia’s warm eyes. “Sunshine. I know that you worry a lot and that I am a big part of it-“

She shot into a straighter posture, ready to reassure her mother, that she was not a burden, but Elia just rubbed her thumb over Rhaenys’ skin in soothing patterns. “But you have to understand that you are the child in this relationship. And I am your mother. It is my job to protect you, not the other way around. And yes you should care for the younger children in your family, but you are also not solely responsible for Daenerys’ happiness.”

A final squeeze. “Please do me the favor and think about your own happiness…”

Rhaenys wanted to laugh out loud. Her own happiness? With this father of hers? With the political climate? And the thread of being permanently cut from the people she loved?

Still, she mustered her mother with a sad smile: “I have no idea how I should do that…”, she admitted quietly. “Theon seems to be a nice enough man. I can see us becoming friends eventually, but he is not ready to settle down with anyone. I don’t know if he ever will; I don’t know if it will be with me…

I don’t want to resent him one day for things that are beyond his control too. I-“

I don’t want to end up like you.

The thought knocked the air out of her for a moment, but she did not dare voice such vile notions. Plastering on a fake smile was also futile. Elia knew her children too good to be fooled so easily.

Her mother’s gentle hand found the strands in Rhaenys’ face and brushed them aside. “I am not saying that it will be easy. It never is. But you have to choose your battles and face the reality that you can’t save anyone…”

__

Later that day she sat in the godswood with her needlework in hand. The sun-kissed her face with its warmth and the grass under her skirt was comfortable. Sansa Stark was sitting next to her, similarly occupied.

In front of them, the boys were standing, training swords in hand. Arya was hopping between them, eager to be made a part of the training session. Her own needlework was sitting next to her sister, untouched. If Rhaenys thought about it: When was the last she had seen the younger Stark girl during a sewing circle? It seemed that Lord Stark took some leeway with his younger children.

Theon was obviously picking on both Jon and Arya. It was weird to see, that her little brother didn’t only look so much like his cousin but the two were also blushing and sputtering in the same manner. It was endearing, to say the least.

The sunlight vanished in Theon’s black hair and highlighted his sly grin that was equal parts charming and obnoxious. He could see how he could boil Jon’s blood so easily.

In another situation, she would have joined in with the swordplay. She had learned enough at her uncle’s side to handle her weapon sufficiently but the King disliked the image this portrayed. He wanted his oldest to be a sweet defenseless maiden, look pretty, and serve him.

And even though the Godswood had been mostly deserted the setting was still too public. There is hardly anything that conspires unnoticed in her Father’s court. Busybodies roamed the whole keep and many of them were hungry for a royal scandal.

She did not need this kind of attention, so she sat quietly. But watching Arya warmed her heart. It was nice to know that she and her siblings weren’t the only ones and that boys and girls all over the realm struggled and rejected the expectations forced on them.

Robb kneeled in front of his little sister and mushed up her wild hair. Rhaenys watched the blue in eyes shine with adoration as his auburn hair shimmered like polished copper, his pink lips stretching in a beautiful smile-

He caught her eye and his smile grew even wider.

Arya complained whiningly, but she stomped over to the other girls anyway. When she plopped next to her sister, her arms were crossed over her chest and she was wearing a deep frown. “This stinks!”, she then declared. “Arya, please behave.”, Sansa pleaded with a sigh. The ‘What would Mother say?’ went unsaid. She laid a hand on her sister’s arm but retracted it rather fast again.

Rhaenys blinked and saw another bruise vanish underneath the fabric of her sleeve. The princess shared a worried look with Jon who had seen Sansa’s knee-jerk reaction too. Mother might have told her to be more careful with herself but this was unacceptable. She had to find out what was happening to Sansa before they were leaving for the North.

A part of her wanted to confine in Robb only for the fact that he was her eldest brother-

But that was probably a bad idea…

He was engaged to Joffrey’s sister after all…

Damned court politics!

She would have to find a way.


	18. Robb III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He was brought of his own brooding by Ned raising his voice. “Children I have asked you to be here tonight because I want to discuss us going back home soon.” He paused and frowned at the vacant chair Theon was supposed to be in right now.
> 
> Father probably suspected them to cover for the ward but Stark children really had no clue where was or what he was up to for that matter. Or at least Robb didn’t know and Theon was his best friend, so he doubted his sisters knew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my friends~
> 
> I hope you are fine and work, uni or school is treating you well :)  
> Have fun with some Starkling content

Robb was sitting amongst his siblings eating dinner in the study that was given to Lord Stark. Arya was nagging their father about how she wanted to have Sword lessons. That between Princes Rhaenys and Lady Brienne, she too deserved to know how to defend herself. Sansa watched with tired eyes. If they were younger Robb knew they would argue now.

But he liked to imagine that his sisters had grown out of most of their childish quarrels. Speaking of older habits: Usually, Sansa would complain about the fact that Father made her sit with them and not take her meal with the royal court, not even acknowledge the fact that he wanted to share important information with his family.

But today she was so quiet, it worried him. Robb wondered if Father even noticed…

The head of House Stark was even more solemn than he was normally. Robb knew that his father did not enjoy his time at court, as it was the place his brother and own father had met a cruel and untimely end. As it was known that he did have little liking for their King as he had taken his sister and started a war.

Sure, the official story was that Rhaegar had fallen in love with his aunt Lyanna and taken her as second wife, to only have her tragically die in childbirth before he could bring her home to Kingslanding.

But it was Eddard who had been with Lyanna in the moments before her death and he had taken an infant Jon into his care while the war was still waging.

The implied history Robb had grown up with had been quite different and if the way Jon, Aegon, and Rhaenys were treating their father was anything to go by, Robb would rather believe his father than the history books.

Coming here Robb had hoped that spending time with his old friend Robert Baratheon would lift his father’s spirits, but Robert seemed to have changed over the years. He was a drunk and a whoremonger, hardly taking his duties to the king serious and he neglected his children. Or at least that was what Robb suspected seeing how coldly polite Myrcella talked about him.

Sure, the Starks had known all those things, as the Baratheon had visited, but it seemed to have only grown worse in the short years of separation. Myrcella…

Robb felt vaguely guilty about his intended. He had spent more time with Jon and Theon during his time here. On a similar note: He seemed to have learned more about the royal siblings than her.

If the table were turned and someone would treat Sansa or Arya like this, he would be out to get blood. As he would not accept such disrespect to people he loved.

He yearned for his Mother’s advice. She had always understood his hesitations and found ways to make him see better options.

But alas Lady Catelyn was safe in Winterfell.

The bottom line was: He could be a better man.

He was brought of his own brooding by Ned raising his voice. “Children I have asked you to be here tonight because I want to discuss us going back home soon.” He paused and frowned at the vacant chair Theon was supposed to be in right now.

Father probably suspected them to cover for the ward but Stark children really had no clue where was or what he was up to for that matter. Or at least Robb didn’t know and Theon was his best friend, so he doubted his sisters knew.

Sighing Lord Stark carried on: “Since it won't be just us but a daughter of another Great house as well as two royal children, our traveling party will be rather large.” He seemed to be dreading that fact greatly. “Which means we have to plan the whole thing as soon as possible and I want you all to take more responsibility for the journey as you are all are at an age where you have to start to take on your duties.”

Robb thought about that for a minute: Father would have to talk to Lord Baratheon and the King to make any kind of decision regarding their children…

The children all nodded. Usually, their father would not include them in such decisions, especially the girls.

Dinner passed silently after that.

__

Later Robb was sitting on his bed watching the ceiling, deep in thought. Jon had asked him to meet up in one of the yards. The way he had rubbed his neck had told Robb that his cousin, had been nervous. Whatever he needed to talk about, made him insecure. He was debating himself to get up, when suddenly Theon was sitting next to him, grinning from ear to ear. Robb startled.

“Theon? Where-?”

A hand placed itself over his mouth and Theon gestured him to be quiet. “You know it was way too easy to steal myself in here. You should really be more vigilant!” Robb for his part was not in the mood to argue with the older boy. “Where were you?”, he whispered impatiently. “Father looked like he would burn a hole in your chair from starring disapprovingly long enough.”

“Wait-“ For the first time since he sneaked into Robb’s room did his grin falter. If anything he looked like a boy, who got caught with the hand in the cookie jar. “That was today?” Robb sighed and stood. “Yes, that was today! And if you want to still argue I’ll ask you to walk me because I promised Jon to meet him-“

“Ugh.”, Theon rolled his eyes but got to his feet anyway. “Why does it always have to be Jon?” Robb watched him for a moment. “Excuse me?”

“Since we arrived here you only ever spent time with him or well, the Baratheon girl, but that is different.”

“Theon?”, Blinking Robb contemplated what to say next, but he came out mostly blank, so he closed his mouth again. Actually- “Are you jealous of the time I spent with Jon?”

“No.”, the answer came way to fast to be sincere… The two of them had made it up the hall already, but Robb stopped again to make sure his friend looked him in the eye. “Please be honest with me, because we have way too much going on right now, that I could stand you lying to me… You are my best friend.”

The ironborn looked actually taken aback by Robb’s easy admission of friendship. Blue eyes lit with adoration and Robb could not help the silly smile tugging at his lips. Sometimes he forgot how insecure Theon’s position at Winterfell was, that sure the Starklings saw him an honorary family member, but the way he had found himself in their lives was way from peaceful. Theon was torn between two cultures without really belonging to either. The awkward way he interacted with his sister and fellow countrymen was just another reminder for them all.

“Jon is my cousin and he is all the aunt I have never known left us behind. Father has a strained relationship with the South so we never had the chance to spent time with him. But he won’t replace you.”

A quiet sigh and then Theon rubbed his arm self-conscious. “That was not all actually….” Robb was once again surprised since he did not expect more. “But you have to promise to keep that to yourself and not to laugh…”

“I promise.”

“Swear it.”

“I swear.”

“I was also jealous because you met him and were instantly close. I imagined something similar to Asha or any man from my childhood at home. But-“ He chewed his lip. “I am jealous of Asha because she is the son our father wants. She is all iron and seawater. I am afraid that he will reject me once I get home because I am too nordern and Asha knows that. We are constantly fighting and I wish I had it in me to trust her.”

“Theon, I am sorr-“, he could not finish the sentence as the older boy punched his arm more painfully than Robb was prepared for. The vulnerability had vanished from his face. “Don’t mind all that. We should not let the little prince keep waiting.”

And so they moved on.

__

When they stepped outside they were greeted by warm summer-night-air. Jon was pacing, looking like a younger, leaner version of Lord Stark the way he was bathed in moonlight, brooding. “Jon!”, Robb called and the Prince turned.

“What is he doing here?”, he asked looking over Robb right at Theon who was grinning like an idiot again. “He had something to tell me too. Can he stay?”

“Yes, Jonny, can I stay?”

Robb turned sharply and elbowed his friend, a bit too forceful. “Seriously? Can you leave him alone once? _Once_?”

“Relax, Robb. I am joking…”

Neither Robb nor Jon looked convinced, but they didn’t say anything further. “So, what did you need my opinion for?” It was best to change the subject, Robb thought. But it only brought a red taint to Jon’s face. Was he embarrassed now?

Grey eyes glanced at Theon suspiciously, but then he sighed. “My sister urged me to get a present for Sansa- Rember when Rhae picked me up to go to the dressmaker? Well-“

He brought out a tightly wrapped package. As he unfolded it, pale-blue fabric was revealed. The dress had a timeless southron cut and was worked with a sweet pearl pattern. Robb smiled. He could have not asked for a better husband for his sister. Their cousin was gently and honorable and most importantly actually infuriated with her.

(He didn’t want to think about the fact that Arya had to marry one day.)

(Or his own marriage for that matter.)

“That is quite adorable, _my prince_.”, Robb rolled his eyes at Theon’s tone of voice. He knew that the teasing didn’t mean anything more than it was the way his friend showed affection, but he could acknowledge that it could be annoying.

It did not indeed help that Jon got defensive immediately. “What is this supposed to mean?”, he spat. Jon stepped between them easily. (Why did this remind him of how Arya and Sansa used to fight?)

“Can we maybe calm down here?”

“Robb?”

“Theon! Where the hells have you been?”

“Arya don’t swear!”

Robb blinked on ahead, confused. Not about Arya being out and about in the middle of the night or the fact that she wore breaches now, but the fact that Sansa was with her. The elder of his sisters, had a dark cloak pulled deeply into her face, but her fire hair still peaked out with the movement of the fabric, giving herself away.

Ignoring Sansa though, Arya pointed a scrawny finger at their foster brother. “Father was all moppy and broody because you didn’t show up to supper tonight! Where were you anyway?”

Theon’s gaze shot to Jon insecurely and he stayed quiet, which was not like him at all.

To say that Robb was confused was an understatement, but Arya’s inquisition was brought to a screeching end by Sansa’s shy greeting to her betrothed.

“Jon. It is pleasant to see you today at last.”, her voice was warm in a way that Robb heard more and more often these days. He knew that Jon was worried that Sansa did not reciprocate his feelings because she was polite and cautious, but the spark in her blue eyes proofed him wrong easily.

“I-“, Jon’s face found color again and the Starks watched him fumble with his words for a bit. “I am sorry that I could not see you today, Sansa! My father had requested both my and Aegon’s presence the whole day. I will make it up to you tomorrow. We can visit the city if you like and-“

She reached out to him easily. “It is alright. You don’t have to apologize. I just have to admit that I have missed you.”

Arya rolled her eyes, as Jon and Sansa stood there in silence holding onto each other’s hands, not noticing anything around them anymore.

She marched up to Theon and scowled up to him. He watched her with green eyes. “You really will not let that one go, little wolf, huh?” When she shook her head stubbornly, he sighed. But when he spoke again he looked at Robb. He looked guilty.

“I was in town, on _business_ , well-“

With a sick feeling, Robb’s stomach crunched and he could only stay there and watch as Jon let go of Sansa whipping around mid-conversation and grabbing Theon by the collar, effectively pulling him down to his face. “You dare to visit Brothels while you are engaged to my sister? While my sister is your soulmate?”

The anger in his voice was quiet and dangerous. 

“Do you know any Lord who doesn’t have another woman to warm their bed or two?”, Theon for his part sounded surprisingly nonchalant. “I am not married yet I haven’t vowed shit and-“ This was a reminder that Jon was a Targaryen after all. He might look like his mother but he had the temper of a Dragon.

Just as Rhaenys.

Robb knew he needed to intervene here. It was also the first time he noticed that Jon had managed to meet him without a royal guard which was an accomplishment giving the time. So, it was only them out here.

He watched Sansa call him, and Arya voicing her disappointment in Theon. Loudly-

“Jon! Let go of him.”

They all turned around as one.

Princess stood amongst the pillars, tall and graceful. Aegon was just a step behind her, but Robb only noticed him a moment later.

“Rhae, he-”, Jon sounded desperate, a reaction too extreme for the situation. Even if yes Theon’s behavior was distasteful but not against the law. One only had to look at Robert Baratheon countless bastards or at Oberyn Martell’s (tough the later was not married yet.) to know what was expected of noble Ladies.

“I know.” The Princess smoothed a hand over his head and slowly guided him away from her fiancé. “But this is none of your business.”

“But-“

“Jon.”, her tone was firm but clipped. “Let it go.”

Theon had his mouth in a thin line as he Rhaenys managed her little brother. She did not once look at him. “Jon acts like the King didn’t run away with his mother too… Acting all high and mighty…”

Robb had no time to process what he had heard before a fist connected with Theon’s cheekbone. But it was not Jon who had hit him. It was Aegon.

And Robb had thought seeing Jon visibly angry was out of character. Having a fuming crown prince felt wrong on a whole other level.

Rhaenys just took a deep breath and pulled Aegon to her other side, now shoving both of her brothers back towards the castle.

When she noticed Sansa’s pale and miserable expression, she stooped, amethyst eyes soft for the first time that night. “Your highness-“

“It’s okay, sweetling.” Sympathetic fingers brushed her hair behind her ear in a motherly gesture. “You should go to sleep before someone else catches you all out of bed and reports to your Father.”

“Robb, I trust you will see your siblings safe to bed.”

Then the Targaryens were gone.

Arya shot Theon an angry grimace. “I can’t believe you are so awful to the Princess just because you have to be such a skirt chaser.”

For the first time in forever, Sansa didn’t scold Arya for calling people names. For the first time, ever (full stop) did Arya go to bed without arguing. She even took Sansa’s hand.

Robb had no idea what to do with the situation here.

Jon’s present seemed forgotten.


	19. Robb IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The door opened.
> 
> Robb stood face to face with his namesake and future good father. “Lord Baratheon.”, he lowered his head. Arya behind him glared. He could not see it but he knew his little sister. And he knew her opinion of Eddard’s oldest friend.
> 
> “Robb!”, the man was red-faced and already reeking of ale so early into the day. He patted Robb’s shoulder and smiled friendly enough. “How are you, lad?” After exchanging pleasantries, he was saved by his father calling him in.

The next morning the events of the night still weight heavy with Robb, who had barely slept at all. When he finally got out of bed and dressed, he still was miserable.

He didn’t feel like breaking his fast, not with all the anxiety fluttering in his system, but he knew what he absolutely needed to do today.

But when he stood, in front of Theon’s door, doubt came.

Yesterday he hadn’t even looked at Robb when they all walked back to their rooms after Rhaenys tried to deescalate the situation and Aegon out of all people had decked him.

The worst part was that Robb understood the crown prince’s point of view way better. He may not be blood-related to aunt Lyanna, but if anyone had insulted his little siblings like this…

He knew that he needed to talk to Theon tough for a plethora of things. First, to make sure he was relatively fine (all things considered) Second, to find out why he would go and risk his and Rhaenys’ (and Lord Eddard’s) reputation by seeking out whores. Sure, Robb had been at the brothel in Wintertown a time or two with Theon, but they were both engaged now.

And Theon’s betrothed was the King’s daughter, the future King’s beloved sister, the powerful Prince of Dorne’s niece, and the infamous Sand snakes’ cousin (not to mention Prince Oberyn who had his own reputation apart from his daughters). All those things were ingredients for political disaster. Not to mention that Rhaenys’ herself was respected if nothing else (And if Robb were Theon, he would be more careful to make her resent him since she was so capable. The princess seemed to be an ally to seek and an enemy to fear…)

Third, Robb was disappointed. He thought Theon was a better man…

He thought that he would value the lessons lord Stark had installed in all of his children.

He finally knocked after a minute too long staring at the painted wood of the door. Gods, Robb missed home. He wanted to go back soon. There was no answer and with a sigh, he let himself in-

Theon was sitting by the window starring into the morning sky.

“I didn’t allow you in.”

“Well, I have to talk to you anyway.”

Theon just huffed as an answer but didn’t turn around. With annoyance, Robb rubbed his knuckles over his eyebrows. If that was how they would play, he had to- No, he needed to stay calm.

“How are you?”

“I am afraid you don’t really want to know…”

Anger flared inside of him. “Goddamn it, Theon, I worry and I wanted to make sure you are okay. You are my friend!” _You are like a brother to me_.

Theon wiped around, his face was distorted in a sneer and the bright purple bruise around his eye didn’t help. “But you are not my friend!” Robb blinked at him, wounded. “You are my captor’s son. Your father and Robert Baratheon were sent to Pyke when my Father rebelled, to secure the Riverlands for the King.”

Robb wanted to respond wanted to tell Theon that Lord Eddard took no pleasure in killing his people he did it to keep the King’s peace.

“You are not my brother, Robb. Rickon and Bran are not my brothers. My have died during the Rebellion. And my sister- If I learned anything from coming here it is that I don’t know her at all...” He grew quieter: “She doesn’t trust me… Father would not trust me… How can they? They don’t know me.”

“No matter how you put it I am not a ward, I am a political prisoner, insurance that my father will stay put. And they want me to claim my place as his heir with a southron bride? The child of the man who is responsible for the killing of their loved ones?”

“Theon… You once took great pride in being your father’s heir and my father has always treated you fine…” Robb knew the argument was weak giving the political situation of it all.

Theon’s dark eyes grew misty. It broke Robb’s heart but he didn’t say anything. How could he? What could make anything better or less hurtful?

“Asha is the son my father wants Robb… and I am nothing like her. The thing is: I want to resent her for that, but she is my sister still, my only living sibling. Gods, Robb... When was the last time before coming here that I set foot on a fucking ship? How can I be what they need?”

_

When he arrived at his father’s door, he found Arya leaning against it. She tapped her foot against the stone floor, looking more than bored with her waiting.

He didn’t even have to ask who was holding Lord Stark up, Robert Baratheon’s voice was booming and present as ever. “Ned! I can’t- I fear for their lives! You have to understand!”

Treading a look with Arya, who shrugged, Robb tried not to listen to what was obviously a private conversation, but with it being so obvious, he could not help it. Father’s answer was quiet, and he imagined far more controlled than Robert’s

“I don’t give a fuck what Tywin Lannister might think! The girl will understand. The other’s can take Cersei and your Cat-“ the next part was too muffled and then-

The door opened.

Robb stood face to face with his namesake and future good father. “Lord Baratheon.”, he lowered his head. Arya behind him glared. He could not see it but he knew his little sister. And he knew her opinion of Eddard’s oldest friend.

“Robb!”, the man was red-faced and already reeking of ale so early into the day. He patted Robb’s shoulder and smiled friendly enough. “How are you, lad?” After exchanging pleasantries, he was saved by his father calling him in.

Somehow Arya was already in the study, peeking over the documents that were spilled out on the desk. Ned was writing fast and almost unreadable on a piece of paper. Only when he pressed his seal in hot grey wax, did he look up to his children? He looked utterly exhausted in comparison to this morning's breakfast.

What had Robert Baratheon wanted to weight him down like this?

Arya for her part seemed to be done with waiting one way or another. “Father, you promised me a sword! You promised we would go see a smith today! You promised!” For his girl, Ned Stark could spare a smile. Robb crinkled his forehead, confused. “Arya, when-“ he swallowed the ‘ _the fuck’_ \- “did you convince the father to allow you swordless ions, not to mention a sword?”

Grinning she turned to him, utterly pleased with herself. “I am convincing!” Father stood. “We agreed that you can’t use it right away.” He spoke to Robb: “It is a reward in case she would take the lessons I have planned for her in Winterfell serious.”

“I will train every day and I will be the best fighter in all the seven kingdoms. And I will beat up boys that are mean to Sansa and people who are mean to Bran for liking books and-“

“First.” Ned patted her hair and squeezed Robb’s shoulder after, gesturing them to follow him. “I need to send Jory North with some information for your Mother. I am afraid she will not like it…”

Robb frowned again. Displeased by his Father’s crypticity. Whatever Robert Baratheon had asked of him, it had to be part of whatever he had to tell mother so urgently he needed a rider. And that he would not tell Robb anything.

He was his heir, sixteen, a man by any standard of their word.

He was betrothed too.

Why didn’t his Father include him in his work? In the way, he ran business, the north or their home?

Why was he still treating him like a child?

With a sigh he did as he was told, silent resentment would not improve his situation.

__

Father did make good on his promise to Arya and they first visited a famous blacksmith. After he had sent Jory on his way back north. For a moment Robb envied him for the opportunity to go home.

The shop was big and the Master smith obnoxious in his need to sell expensive armor to either him or Eddard. Arya informed him that they were here for her after a while, which shut him up for a bit. Robb would have laughed if it wasn’t a public setting. Arya was thin and lightweight but by the gods, she had the spirit to fight.

To everyone’s surprise, Lord Stark asked to be shown an apprentice.

Gendry was a year younger than Robb but he was of broad build with a strong jar and stronger arms. Given his dark-blue eyes and messy black hair, Robb didn’t need to guess how the bastard’s father was.

Robert Baratheon had talked about saving someone’s life. It was known that he had sired many, many bastards. What the seven hells was all this about?

“My Lord, I have a feeling you are jesting with me.”, the smith smiled uncomfortably. “First you want me to fashion a sword for a girl and now you want to speak to my apprentice? I-“

Eddard ignored him and addressed the boy: “Gendry. Your father sends me. He asked me to take you with me because the city is not safe for you anymore.”

Strong eyebrows furrowed. “I am not sure I understand what you mean, M’lord…”

“That is fine. I will explain everything in due time.”

Tossing a purse to the Master smith Lord Stark walked them out again.

“I hope you can wait a bit longer for your sword, sweetling.”

Arya nodded. “I didn’t like the man anyway. Can we asked Mikken to make me a sword when we go home?”

Robb rode next to Gendry who was quiet. “Father-“

“I know what you want to ask but please be a bit more patient.”

They ended up in a trading house and when the merchant lead them to the back room they were greeted by Lord Jon Arryn and four more Baratheon bastards. They were obviously related to Gendry. The oldest was a girl maybe eighteen or nineteen, he was not sure, with short black hair and big blue eyes. The youngest was a babe, just old enough to sit by herself with the same blue eyes and a lick of dark hair.

“You grew, Mya.”, the eldest girl grinned, and if her parentage hadn’t been apparent before it was now. “I do remember you dully, Lord Stark. What else was I supposed to do?”

“Gendry, I suppose you have questions.”, Lord Stark started. Lord Arryn had a tight smile for him. Robb knew that their father had been fostered at the Erryie with him and Robert Baratheon, witnessing the rare occasion that they were together these days, made him see the boy his father must have been.

“You still have no idea how to talk to people. What did you tell the lad to follow you? Knowing you, you didn’t even tell your children what this is about. Tell my you at least taken care that your Lady is informed…”

“Jon.”, his father’s face was so pained it would have been funny if laughing in this situation wouldn’t be so rude. Robb caught Mya smirk. “I am not a child anymore. I know how to run my household and how to talk to my wife. Besides a smithery is not the place to discuss once illegitimate parentage.”

Gendry frowned. “My father was a noble?”

“Our father is Robert Baratheon and we have a lot of siblings from all over the Kingdom.”, Mya offered her hand. “I am Mya Stone and I guess I am the oldest here.”

Ned turned to his children. “Robb, Arya, meet Mya Stone. I knew her as a baby in the Vale. Jon took care of her since Robert and I left the Erryie.” The tall girl saluted and then addressed her half-brother again. “This is Phil Stone. He also worked for Lord Arryn”

The boy, Phil, was tall for his ten years too, but where Mya and Gendry’s hair was straight and messy, he curled fine and pretty. His face was friendly and freckled. Mya patted the mob of dark hair on his head while he bombarded Gendry with questions.

The next girl was four, strong looking for her age with a neat black braid and an upturned nose. Faith Waters was the daughter of a palace maid. She clung to her old pupped and eyed the adults wearily. The babe’s name was Bara Water. Her mother had been a young whore, slain by a jealous wife.

“Wasn’t there supposed to be another boy?”

Jon Arryn’s face contorted painfully. We came to pick up Robert Waters this morning we only found his mother, clinging to the child’s corpse…”

Robb ignored the sickening crunch in his stomach and focused on Gendry and Mya while they tried to reassure Faith. Arya was jumping from kid to kid and talked with every one of them, already making friends with them.

“Children.”, Ned was addressing them all. “Mya, Gendry, Phil, and Bara will accompany us North as a favor to Robert.”

“Why should they just leave their Mothers to come with us? Gendry didn’t finish his apprenticeship. And-“

“To make it short.”, Jon Arryn didn’t have to be loud to command the attention of the room. “Robert’s Lady wife, Cersei Lannister has started to order the killings of your half-siblings, primarily the boys. I noticed the pattern a while back and informed Robert, who asked Eddard to take care of you. You all will be accommodated for.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, those are bascially the three story lines in this fic.  
> 1) Braime in the Westerlands  
> 2) Starks, Targs, Robert's kids and Myrcella in Winterfell  
> 3) Marge, Aeg, Elia, the rest of the Lannisters in King's Landing
> 
> I dont remember who asked how and if Ned would lern of Cersei's affair here, I guess you got your answer ;)  
> Hope the week was treating you well.  
> Have a good weekend,  
> Alex


	20. Brienne VI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne had been annoyed and exhausted between the people’s unwanted attention and the merchants try to butter-up to her, she had little patience left. But Winifred’s excitement was charming.
> 
> “Winifred.”, Brienne’s voice was soft again. “Did you visit your family in the time we have been back?”
> 
> The girl’s smile faltered a bit. “No, my Lady. Lord Tywin’s orders were clear. I am to tend to your needs and serve you. I am not allowed to leave you alone…”
> 
> “What if I need you to go see your family?”
> 
> She laughed at that, a pretty sound. “I don’t think that that was what the Lord had in mind, but if you insist we might find a day I can leave you by yourself. For now, let’s decide what I can show you in the city. You should be familiar with some of the places you will live in.”
> 
> Brienne could not really say no to that, so after they finished up their business with the resources for the visit of the other Lannisters, she let the older girl pull her to the sea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello you beautiful people.  
> It's Braime time!  
> I hope yall have been good :)

Two days after her Lord Husband had informed her that his uncle’s family would come to the castle, Lady Brienne and her Lady Maid were walking thru Lannisport, two crimson guards at their side.

The thing was Brienne wanted to get out of Casterly Rock. The last few weeks had been suffocating in a way or another. It had felt like the foreign walls would creep in on her, while she tried to figure out the things that were expected of her.

But now that she was outside…

People were starring at her.

That in itself would have been nothing new. She always had people give her concerned and amused looks when they realized that she was a woman, but since she was in the company of the Lannister house guard and wearing trousers…

She was probably not what the people expected as their future Lady.

On Tarth her people were accustomed to her. They had watched her grow up in all the awkwardness that had and her role as a noblewoman had put her in. Other places usually didn’t see her long enough to really question her demeanor. Here she was supposed to govern those people at some nonspecific time.

She already felt the headache lurk in the back of her mind, as she realized she would have to wait her time here too until she was not a spectacle here anymore. (Maybe that day would never come…)

For now, she tried to act like she didn’t notice the glances and muffled laughter.

(Maybe she should have worn her new house colors…)

At least the merchants pretended to not be bothered, wanting to be on good terms with her and her new, powerful family.

And for whatever it was worth Winifred essentially glowed with the joy of being home again and in extension showing Brienne the town, away from the short glances they had stollen as they rode thru.

“My Lady! We should go to see the bay. I know a quiet shore we could watch the ocean if you please?“, Winifred talked to her animated and generally excited to show Brienne her hometown. It was adorable how her dark eyes shined brown in the bright sunlight.

“We can drink some spiced honey wine! I can show you one of the good breweries.”

Brienne had been annoyed and exhausted between the people’s unwanted attention and the merchants try to butter-up to her, she had little patience left. But Winifred’s excitement was charming.

“Winifred.”, Brienne’s voice was soft again. “Did you visit your family in the time we have been back?”

The girl’s smile faltered a bit. “No, my Lady. Lord Tywin’s orders were clear. I am to tend to your needs and serve you. I am not allowed to leave you alone…”

“What if I need you to go see your family?”

She laughed at that, a pretty sound. “I don’t think that that was what the Lord had in mind, but if you insist we might find a day I can leave you by yourself. For now, let’s decide what I can show you in the city. You should be familiar with some of the places you will live in.”

Brienne could not really say no to that, so after they finished up their business with the resources for the visit of the other Lannisters, she let the older girl pull her to the sea.

She smelt the salt in the air before they could even see a sliver of water and Brienne would lie if she said the familiar scent gave her comfort in a way only home could. It only hit her then how much she missed the security of Tarth.

She missed her father. She missed the people in her castle, the familiarity of her own room as small and plain there were in comparison to her new quarters as Lady Lannister. She missed the friendship of the other inhabitants of Evenfall; the luxury of being unapologetically herself and knowing exactly what was asked of her.

Still, standing here on the small strip of wet sand, watching over the dark waves, so serene and peaceful on that sunny summer day, it made it ache a little less. The cool wind was tousling her hair.

They stayed longer than Brienne would have anticipated, given how tense she had been half of their little field trip but Winifred told stories from her childhood, her siblings, and the shenanigans they had been caught in around those grounds.

Her golden hair flying in the wind as she was collecting seashells for Brienne to examine. They were pretty and they were some kinds that were not native to Tarth. Brienne in turn gave some memories from her own youth. Some harmless beach days, the time she had spent with her father, nothing too private or telling since she was still not sure if she could trust the girl. But alas she seemed to be the only company she would have here.

It was almost nice.

So enjoyable in fact that she didn’t notice that their guard was left behind them, only a few steps that were, but it seemed enough. They were rounding a corner, moving out of their field of vision.

Suddenly Brienne heard the crunch of sand under bodyweight and before she could even react a burly man held a steel dagger to Winifred’s neck. He was large and burley, with dark matted hair. The girl in his arms whimpered but was silenced with a hand over her mouth.

Brienne glanced over the man’s shoulder to her useless guards who still didn’t seem to have caught on to what was happening. The man himself had terrible posture, terrible form. If she had been armed, it would have been easy to knock him off his feet.

But alas she had left the caste unarmed.

This had to be a bit messier than she was comfortable with.

“Hey Lordling.”, the man’s voice was rough and unpleasant. Brienne was actually glad to be mistaken for a man right now since it would buy her some more time and maybe some authority.

Winifred had more fight in her than she gave her credit for, as she bit the man with a sickening crunch. Spiting out a bit of skin she called: “Please, my Lady! Don’t worry about me and get to safety!”

Their attacker was in the motion of hitting her but stopped suddenly midair. He snorted: “You are a woman? A noble bastard’s wife?”

She felt the tips of her ears grow hot in old shame.

But there was no time to dwell on this crocks mockery. He was distracted and her guards still hadn’t made it around the corner. Who had trained them? With a quick kick that hocked around the man’s food and pulled the support from underneath him. He fell like a brick still holding onto Wini.

He was a bit more agile than she anticipated from a man of his density. Before she could dodge completely, the knife graced her thigh, cutting thru fabric, skin, and flesh.

A swift knee to his face was enough to let the girl free and coax a snarling scream from his mouth.

Winifred hid behind Brienne’s board form, as their guards finally got the hint and restrained the attacker.

Brienne was exhausted from all the bullshit.

__

When they returned to the castle, Brienne was more annoyed than anything else. Ignoring the questions from the Casterlean and Miss Etta called after her but Brienne didn’t have to nerve to have that kind of conversation with an essential stranger.

The haven of her rooms gave her momentary relief.

There was a knock on her door after only a few minutes. Winifred's voice was soft and pitiful and a part of Brienne wanted to believe she cared, but it was only uncalled for sympathy for the wrong things. She was not sad about the robbing attempt or the fact that the crowd had seen her fighting ability.

She was proud of her abilities with the sword. It was the ridicule that followed. The pity for Jaime for having to marry her, like she hadn’t been forced into this just as much as he had. But an unfeminine woman was worse than an asshole husband apparently, especially since Ser Jaime was handsome.

Winifred was back if her urgent footsteps were anything to go by.

“My Lady. Please let me in. You are wounded. Let me in! Let the Maester look at you! You saved my life today, let me repay you. My Lady-“

“It is okay.”, her voice was tired. Brienne didn’t even feel the sting of the cut right now. She didn’t know why she would react in such an extreme way.

This wasn’t the first time. This would not the first time.

It was just another part of her life…

But here she was alone. Renly and Loras were still in King’s Landing, her father was on his way back to Tarth and all her plans for her life were inconsequential now. She still hadn’t talked about the problem of an heir to Ser Jaime.

What would happen to her if she could not deliver in this department? What was a marriage alliance worth if it didn’t produce children? What would happen to her life and reputation, her father’s reputation if Ser Jaime would cast her aside?

The truth was: She was alone and afraid amongst strangers.

“Lady Lannister?”, Maester Creylen’s thin voice came calmly from behind the door, but Brienne just cringed at her not-so-knew-anymore title.

She released a shaking breath only to finally notice the quiet tears spilling down her face. Why was she so emotional today? Why?

Brienne could not even answer that without embarrassing herself more than she already had. The Maester called for her some more but gave up somewhere along the way. She was not entirely sure how much time did pass but eventually the corridor fell silent once more.

Brienne lied on her bed now as the afternoon grew to evening.

“My Lady?”, the knock at her door came with another wave of irritation. “I am fine, Ser.”

_Go away._

“I don’t believe you. Your Lady said that you were injured today. I would rather make sure that you will not die from infection if only so I don’t have to face my father with a dead wife after less than a month.”

“If that is your only concern, I can smooth them out. I am fine, _Ser_.”

Brienne could almost feel him roll his eyes in annoyance behind the door, but she was not in the mood to be patronized by this man that was almost old enough to be her father and regrettably her husband.

“I could stop asking you to let me in and just order you, M’Lady…”

“You could certainly do that. My Lord.”

The moment of silence following her snappy answer stretched a bit. For a second or two, she felt somewhat guilty. He tried to only help her after all. Why did she care about his motives that much? They had to live together at least for the foreseeable future, but at least here in this moment, he made a bit of an effort.

A soft sigh in the quiet of her room and then she heard his footfall grew fainter. He left. So maybe she could have some quiet now. An hour or two to collect her conflicting feelings and be herself again.

Maybe she could-

The telltale sound of a key turning in her door and before she could get up again Jaime Lannister was in front of her. A dish of aid supplies in his hands.

“Jaime-“

“No.”

“No?”

“No. You don’t get to argue anymore. Now do me a _favor_ and sit up.”

For a moment she didn’t move, just blinking up at him with round blue eyes. Because who would have thought that Jaime fucking Lannister would come and nurse his wife’s injuries himself. Sure he was mildly annoyed by it, but still.

“Brienne.”

Why was he speaking to him as if she was a small child?

She complied eventually, hoisting her tired body up into a sitting position. Only now did she feel the cut again. Her pants were dark with blood and salt and sand was sticking in it somehow… It hurt quite a bit, now that she was acutely aware again.

Jaime kneeled in front of her and examined the wound with keen green eyes. The probing stung but she was too proud to do anything other than keep her mouth shut close. Another sigh.

“Strip.”

“Excuse me?”

“I can’t clean the wound if you keep wearing trousers and well they are ruined anyway…”

She glared at him and the heat in her face told her annoyingly that she was blushing, more annoyingly: Her reaction coaxed a tight grin out of him.

“I hate you, you know that?”

The words lacked any bite as she stood and excepted his help to slip out of her garment. Only in her small-clothes and shirt she felt very naked but Jaime didn’t even look fazed, instead, he focused on flushing the sand out of the cut.

She watched his long fingers as he cleaned it with alcohol and but bandages around her leg. The skin to skin contact left her leg tingly and uncomfortable.

When he was done her husband stood and raked an almost condescending hand thru her tousled hair, warm and nice.

“Get some sleep, wife.”

Brienne watched him leave her, feeling annoyed and exhausted.

Why was she married to him out of all people?

Why was he so nice on occasion?

It would be easier to hate him if he was just an asshole all the time…


	21. Jaime VII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sunrise barely licked on the horizon when he rolled out of his feathered bed. What was it worth to stay in bed and contemplate his confusing feelings.
> 
> He walked over to the smaller desk that stood in his bedroom. Jaime hated the way it was already clattered with rushed and half-finished letters to his family and his father’s bannermen alike. Wasn’t it pathetic how much he hated the work of a noble Lord?
> 
> Just looking gave him a headache.
> 
> Taxation tables, minor disputes between both Lords and Commoners, Requests for all sort of favors, criminal activity…
> 
> A part of Jaime wished Tyrion was here. His little brother was not a fighter but he easily had his way with mind-numbing day-to-day bureaucracy. But Tyrion was not here and Father wanted him to do it anyway because he was his heir again.
> 
> Pushing most papers out of his way, Jaime picked up a letter that had nothing to do with rotten politics.
> 
> Dear Uncle Jaime,

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good day my fellow nerds.  
> I hope you survived the week and have a neat weekend in front of you!

Jaime woke that day alone.

It was the first time in the short weeks back in Casterly Rock that Brienne was not beside him when he woke up. It felt oddly lonely. One half of his bed had always been cold in King’s Landing. He had never stayed the night with Cersei.

(Did she feel similar when she woke up?

He left her side every morning before she woke…)

The sunrise barely licked on the horizon when he rolled out of his feathered bed. What was it worth to stay in bed and contemplate his confusing feelings.

He walked over to the smaller desk that stood in his bedroom. Jaime hated the way it was already clattered with rushed and half-finished letters to his family and his father’s bannermen alike. Wasn’t it pathetic how much he hated the work of a noble Lord?

Just looking gave him a headache.

Taxation tables, minor disputes between both Lords and Commoners, Requests for all sort of favors, criminal activity…

A part of Jaime wished Tyrion was here. His little brother was not a fighter but he easily had his way with mind-numbing day-to-day bureaucracy. But Tyrion was not here and Father wanted him to do it anyway because he was his heir again.

Pushing most papers out of his way, Jaime picked up a letter that had nothing to do with rotten politics.

_Dear Uncle Jaime,_

_I know you are probably busy, running the Rock for Grandfather, but I have some worries I don’t really think I can share with Mother or Grandfather without blowing ~~my feelings~~ this concern out of proportion. ~~Father would not care.~~_

Jaime furrowed his brows at that… His niece. ( _His daughter_ a persistent voice in the back of his mind reminded him.) never had been close to him, just like the other of Cersei’s children. (For obvious reasons) And he never had a problem with that. He loved Cersei. He never cared for the children he had put in her belly. So, he was the more confused that Myrcella was trying to confide in him now…

_I was never close to Uncle Tyrion. So, he is not an option either even though he is here and would give me an honest answer probably. Maybe that is mother’s since she never seemed close to him.  
Maybe I am writing to you because you are so far away…  
After all, you also never spent particular much time with me or my brothers, when we grew up either (or now)_

That was exactly what he meant. Maybe she just needed to put her thoughts into writing. But then why send it to him? He was not the person to help a young girl with her problems even if he would have cared.

Gods, why?

_Alas, I started this letter so I will voice my concerns. Even though they seem petty and paranoid now in the morning light._

_I think I will not be happy with Robb Stark, dear Uncle._

_I don’t think he has any interest in me, not as a ~~woman~~ girl not as a person. I know it is a luxury problem since it is a good match in many ways. I just wish we could be friends at least. (Maybe I am being unfair since he had as little say in this as I had.)_

_I would like to ask you if you care for Lady Brienne, now that you are married, even though it was against both your wills? Did my Lord Father at any point care for my Mother? Or did he always hurt her? ~~Could that be my future?~~_

Jaime closed his eyes in unwilling pain.  
He remembered the day Cersei got married to Robert. How she had been ready to make it work, at least her words, not his. She had been desperate for their Father’s approval, for just a bit of power to call her own. (Like all of them he supposed) but he remembered the anger and bitterness when she came back after her rough wedding night. Robert had not only disrespected her in the way he had gone about it but he only had his dead wolf girl in mind.

Back then Jaime already had been ready to kill him, Cersei only needed to say the word.

When Cersei had first come to him shaken and a bruise blooming on her beautiful skin, he would have burned the whole damned city down, if she hadn’t stopped him.

To think that the girl would go thru the same thing potentially.

For what?

His father’s approval again, a lick of autonomy.

Jaime never dwelled on his children long enough to care for them like an uncle should, let alone a father should, but the way she reminded him of a young Cersei, broke his heart in a million pieces. Nothing ever changed.

_I am also afraid that he might desire another…_

_What security do I have alone up north? With families that hate my Grandfather? Hate what our family, my Mother’s family represents? Resent that I look so much like her?  
I am aware of the delicate political situation between Lannisters and Starks. And I meant it when I told Grandfather that I will do my best to put old prejudice to rest for the sake of all of our families. It is an alliance after all._

_I just naively thought that I might not be alone…_

His mind rushed to a young Cersei alone at Storm’s End with a husband who cared more for Ghosts than his wife and a bunch of strangers that resented her, for Tywin had sided with the Targaryens to the bitter end.

_Dear Uncle Jaime be so kind and don’t tell Mother about this letter, about my fears and insecurities. She has always raised me to be a woman of confidence and power, I would hate to disappoint her like this.  
If not for my sake then maybe for hers.  
I know you love her dearly._

_With a heavy heart and love for you  
your niece,_

_Myrcella_

Jaime reread and reread the lines of tight, neat handwriting, unsure what to do and drowning in his memories of Cersei’s marriage. He felt pity for Myrcella but only in association with Cersei and he had no idea what he should do – with any of it.

With an irritated sigh, he put the letter back into his drawer, still not sure what or even if he should answer. Tommen had written to him too. His words spilled loopy over the pages, telling him about knights, games, and cats. When he read it, he felt nothing but light amusement. It was a boy’s childhood.

It had happened a lot lately. Those little bursts of empty empathy, pitty. He had no idea where it came from. Usually, he did not care much for other people. There was the love he had for Tyrion, but he knew he would do anything for her, and unfortunately, she knew that. (But it was the truth…)

But yesterday he had been actually angry with the guards who failed to protect his wife. He had been annoyed with having to coax her out of her room after both the Lannet girl and his Maester didn’t succeed.

In the end, he had lost all his patience with her clipped defiance and sharp answers, so he had fetched the Key to the room. (He had excess to them all as acting Lord) But when he had seen her glassy-eyed and crushed, he had faltered a bit. There was the conversation they had on their wedding night.

Brienne reminded him of the young, hopeful version of himself way too much.

In the end, he rose.

The sun was now shining thru the window.

He stepped closer, watching the garden, the perfect view he had from his private chambers. He caught sight of his wife. The girl was striding along the path with her little Lady in waiting, she wore men’s clothes again, but this time her sword was secured on her wide hip.

The two were in conversation and he watched her blue eyes shine in the morning light. After a moment she turned to his window as if she had felt his gaze. They made eye contact. Brienne actually gave him a small wave. It was awkward and joyless. So why was he so annoyed with himself?

Yes, he felt for her, but that didn’t mean she meant anything to him!

The only reason why he wasn’t touching her was that he wanted to get an annulment, wanted to get back to Cersei…

And Myrcella?

The girl might have been sired by him but she had never been his daughter, in all but that little detail she, they all had been Roberts. (And Robert still was a shit father.) Why would he care about her wellbeing now? Back when Cersei had born Joffrey the only thing he had felt jealousy since the children occupied so much of her time. The time that he could have had with her.

Brienne looked away and he decided, that he had done enough brooding for one day and left his room. After all, he could not stay there forever.

He passed the gardens and his wife was already elsewhere, but there was another young girl that demanded his attention. As his castellan explained hastily, his cousin that had been fostered by another western family until now had been sent back to Casterly Rock with a letter explaining that they would no longer take care of a bastard.

Joy Hill was sitting in the hall, like a stranger.

Jaime hadn’t seen her in years.

It hit him then how much she looked like Myrcella, just one could tell by looking at Myrcella that she would grow up to be as beautiful as Cersei. (It was a harsh reminder of how obvious their parentage was when you knew…)

When she noticed him she stood straight at one, rubbing her glassy green eyes and curtsied. “Cousin.” Jaime rubbed his face, really tired of feeling sorry for people this morning. “Joy. How have you been? Your journey must have been tiring.”

“I am fine.”, she looked very much not fine and there was a part of him that suspected that she wanted him to comfort her, wanted anyone to comfort her really, but if the little information Jamie had on Joy’s childhood from Tyrion told him anything than it was that she learned quickly to adjust to Tywin’s expectations. Bastards were better not seen or heard. Especially bastards that are presumably orphans and living with their Uncle’s ‘generosity’.

“I will tell Etta to ready a room for you, little one.”

The fact that Joy was here now again would be something he had to report to his father…. Hadn't there been the promise of a marriage alliance somewhere in the foster agreement? Jaime didn’t remember because when it was discussed he did not pay attention.

But either way, it would be something Tywin Lannister would not take kindly to. He opened his eyes again. Joy was still standing in front of him: delicate figure, tight posture. Her dress was simple definitely not fashionable in the capital but nicely made, gold-yellow fabric stitched with tiny red lionesses prancing near the seams. Branding her a Bastard for everyone to see.

“How about you join us for dinner tonight?”

He really didn’t want to have a young girl at his already tense dinner table, but he was also not in the mood to watch Joy mope around all day, because she probably felt like she had failed Tywin. (He didn’t have to know his cousin to know that. His father just had that effect on all people.)

(If this morning warranted any kind of results, it was to remind him of that fact…)

She nodded with a tight smile and Jaime finally, finally turned to get some goddamn breakfast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be level with you guys:  
> I only wrote Joy Hill into this because I have one (1) specific scene with her in mind, so I went to the troubles of writting her a story arc.  
> (And yes I made a Mind Map with all the character relationships bc at this point in planning I was afraid to forget someone lol)
> 
> On a more icky note:  
> I can totally see a Jaime that didnt get his (it's not a full) redemption arc, later try to groom Myrcella?  
> (No I dont know why my mind went there while writing this)  
> (That would be the plot of a darker fic than this---)


	22. Brienne VII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They were officially introduced to each other. Brienne saw the mistrust and disdain in the older Lannister knight’s face and again the pity they all extended to Ser Jaime. It was already tiring now and there was Lady Amerei. Brienne didn’t care for Jaime. She really did not, but the way the other girl looked at him. When her own husband, a younger man at that, was right there.
> 
> The boy was introduced as Podrick Payne, a cousin from a lesser branch of House Payne and as of right now squire to Ser Lancel. He was very still only reacting when he was spoken to, only flinching when his Master was loudly complaining about him and his personality.
> 
> It was offputting, but Brienne had no time to dwell on it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Are you ready for some Lannisters?

“My Lady it is time.”

Brienne looked up to meet Joy Hill’s green eyes. The girl curtsied pleasantly. She had arrived at the castle a few days ago and had been nothing but polite and quiet. Making sure she was claiming as little space as possible in the wast castle.

Brienne’s attempts at involving herself in the girl’s life had been unsuccessful. She was not sure why yet but for now she decided to let her go at her own pace.

With a tight smile, Brienne smoothed out the rich silk of her blood-red dress, ornated with detailed gold stitching. She suspected it to be earnest gold thread. Lannister colors. A part of her yearned for the comfort of muted Tarth colors.

The cut of it was not flattering either. It had been made for a girl with a thinner waist, more delicate shoulders, and more beautiful curves. It had been made before it was known who Ser Jaime would marry. It wasn’t worth to dwell on. It was what it was at this point. Joy wore a new dress too. Brienne had made sure the young girl had a good dress for such occasions, one that fit her after a growth spurt.

Her shoulders were left bare from the pale yellow fabric, while a delicate lace color made sure that she showed no cleavage at such an age as well as giving the simple fabric a more dramatic flair. Red flowers and lion cups were stitched about the bodice as the cloth wrapped around her body.

“I am on my way!”, she shot the girl a tight smile as she fell into step next to her, ready to welcome Ser Jaime’s uncle back to the Rock. The knight himself was already waiting by the main gate with most of the castle’s staff. He wore as exquisite garments as her. It had been made from the same red cloth as her dress.

Stopping next to him and straightening her posture, was made with a little mind on the actual task. She was tense and nervous, and she knew she was tense and nervous. But there was nothing much she could do about it. The thought of spending the next days and weeks with people that would judge her for everything she was doing, was exhausting.

Jaime put his hand shortly on her arm and fixed her with a questioning look. It was almost tender if it wasn’t for the annoyance that was bleeding into expression. Brienne thought back to the day she had been attacked on the beach. The way he had cared for her, with calm concern and tender touch. The feeling of his fingers in her hair. She mouthed ‘I am fine.’ But she was not sure if he believed her.

He looked like he was about to argue but she was saved by the arrival of their guests.

Ser Kevan was a balding man with broad shoulders and Lannister green eyes. He eyed the castle with a stern look as if he expected Jaime had already left it in ruin. Brienne frowned at his critical demeanor. Didn’t he trust his own nephew?

The oldest boy, a man really. Lancel was a year younger than her. It didn’t sit right with her to call him a boy, even if he seemed as bratty as Cersei Lannister’s son. He was essentially a younger, softer version of Ser Jaime. Speaking of when Lance spotted his cousin his eyes lit up adoration.

The twins were following short behind on matching horses. Brienne could not possibly tell them apart right now. They had their mother’s round faces and darker eyes. Speaking of: there was a wheelhouse right behind them probably containing the woman of the family.

Dorna Swyft Lannister was a nondescriptive woman, shrouded in pretty red wool, but what really made Brienne smile when she stepped out of the cart was her husband rushing to help her and their three-year-old daughter out of it. It was a surprising soft moment for the knight who had only been judgmental since prancing thru the gate.

Contrasting his father, newly knighted Ser Lancel did not help his new wife with anything. Brienne was vaguely aware of the fact that Amerei Frey had a _reputation_ that had made it impossible for her parents to get her a husband. Until Ser Kevan made the decision to wed his eldest to her.

She was pretty. Rounded face, big brown deer eyes, long hair, even longer legs and curves. Brienne could see why men would fall for her. When she smiled in their direction, her face was bright and welcoming.

Still, why this union did happen was beyond Brienne. She had no clue what political advantage this would give them.

A small page extended a nervous hand to the newest Lannister woman. Her smile turned surgery fast like she knew the boy was crushing on her. The boy was very skinny, too skinny to be any good in any fight, and had very straight, very fine hair. When his eye’s connected with Brienne’s he became skittish and looked away fast.

They were officially introduced to each other. Brienne saw the mistrust and disdain in the older Lannister knight’s face and again the pity they all extended to Ser Jaime. It was already tiring now and there was Lady Amerei. Brienne didn’t care for Jaime. She really _did not_ , but the way the other girl looked at him. When her own husband, a younger man at that, was right there.

The boy was introduced as Podrick Payne, a cousin from a lesser branch of House Payne and as of right now squire to Ser Lancel. He was very still only reacting when he was spoken to, only flinching when his Master was loudly complaining about him and his personality.

It was offputting, but Brienne had no time to dwell on it.

Etta, Winifred, and Brienne showed the woman and the boys where they were staying while the men were moving into Jaime’s study to talk business. (Whatever that meant for the West.) Brienne and her Lady in waiting made conversation with the Lady Dorna. For Winifred, it was easy since she knew where exactly the brother of Lord Tywin lived in Lannisport.

Brienne asked polite questions from time to time and gave her opinion of the part of the city she had seen already. Amerei didn’t seem to be that invested in courtesy or the small talk that was going on. When everyone arrived safely in their quarters and was satisfied with their servants she had a moment to breathe before overseeing the last dinner preparation.

The meal was passing with even more mind-numbing chatter. For some reason, Lady Dorna was very interested and focused on any future heirs for the main branch of House Lannister. It was awkward. “But Brienne, Sweetling.”, she said not unkindly. Brienne for her part was almost sure that there was no malice here, only loyalty to her husband's house. Still…

“You should not let too much time pass. The sooner you bare a boy the sooner you have a bit of peace and stability in this household. You can’t imagine how relieved I was to have Lancel.” She smiled at her daughter. “There is always time for girls.” Brienne noticed how Ser Kevan was glaring at his oldest son. Was he also neglecting his marital duties?

“Girl!”, Kevan seemed to be finished with scrutinizing his boy and moved on to his niece. “Do you want to explain why house Marbrand sent you back to Tywin to be a burden?” He did not wait for her answer. “But then again? What did I expect of you?”

Joy pressed her mouth into a thin line as she was watching her uncle's rude grin. Brienne saw how her hands fisted into the cloth of her clothing only from the angle she was sitting at. “Ser. You shouldn’t-“

“What, Woman? Scold my own niece for failing me and the whole family? A family you have been a part of for five minutes.”

“With all due respect, Ser.”, Brienne could not help the venom leaking into her voice. Just seeing the girl sit there all sad and desperate to keep herself together broke her heart. “How is a ten-year-old responsible for the success of her engagement beyond being obedient and polite with her foster family, which Joy had been just that. Flawlessly courtesy.”

Ser Kevan didn’t seem to appreciate the input the newer addition to his family had when his anger distorted face was anything to go by. She was ready to double down on the knight who should shield the innocence not berate his own niece, bastard or not- Lady Dorna put a lean hand on her husbands and after they shared a glance, his mouth fell shut.

Brienne looked at the other people at the table, who all sat there in uncomfortable silence. She felt somewhat guilty for making a scene like that, but she would not stop standing up for what she believed in. “Ser-“

“Excuse me, Uncle, but I am afraid my wife isn’t feeling too well right now. I would ask you to excuse her for this evening-“, Jaime’s voice was cold and cutting. He was the spitting image of his father when he was like that. All the ghost of Lord Lannister.

Brienne stared at him in disbelieve.

Jaime on the other hand wasted no time to all but drag her from the hall. When they were in the hallway she struggled against his grip, finally over her initiate surprise and shoved him off her. He just looked at her cooly.

“How dare you?”, she started angrily. He scoffed, being the fucking asshole she had met weeks ago. “How dare me? How dare you to speak to my uncle like this? In front of his family? For what? A bastard?”

“For a little girl!”, she barked back, still trying to contain her anger and disappointment as they were in the open, guards standing by and Jaime hadn’t raised his voice yet. She didn’t want to be the first to yell, not in public.

He actually crowded her against the cold stone wall. His open palm slamming next to her face. She refused to flinch, but even though she was still taller than him (and using the fact with a stubbornly high chin), she was acutely aware of what she wearing: A skimpy draping of light fabric, leaving here way more exposed than the soft leathers Jaime wore for pants and west. He didn’t wear a sword, but could she really overpower him if it came to it?

“Listen to me wench and listen closely:” His eyes were pinning hers as he was still invading her space and breathing the same air. “You are not in charge of this castle. I am. Of right now anyway. And if you want it or not I decide how much freedom you will have as my wife.”

_If I stay your wife_.

She thought resentfully.

“This is my home, my table, my bastard cousin!”

She put her whole hand on his chest, feeling the warmth there and the way his breath had grown irregular with anger. She had no time to appreciate how solid his muscles were underneath her skin, as she pushed hard. Jaime was too practiced to be thrown off his balance by her not if her attack was so upfront, but he stepped aside for her after staring her down a bit more for good measure.

Brienne stomped up to her room with a fire burning in her veins. She was done with him. Done with this family. Those horrible people.

When she arrived in her bedroom, she banged the door shut for good measure even though the Lions in the dining hall could not hear it. A part of her wanted to wreak havoc on her room, to do something with her hands since she hadn’t healed a sword since… since…

She deflated a bit and sat on her way too soft bed that was also way too red. There were tears pricking in her eyes now that she was alone with her anger and disappointment. Annoyed she rubbed her silly face so she would stop crying. Stop missing her father, stop feeling like a foolish girl.

Why was she so disappointed in Jaime? Was the behavior tonight not exactly the man she had met in the sept a few weeks ago? What just because he had stories about Arthur Dayne to tell and was nice to her like twice, she had expectations?

She had seen his sister and knew the reputation of the family she had married into.

Gods, she was done with being agreeable for his comfort. He might want to cast her aside anyway since he wouldn’t lay her… and she had no idea why it bothered her so much since she didn’t want him anyway. More tears were falling, and she could have screamed.

(Maybe she was afraid that no one ever wanted her…)

And suddenly Winifred was in the room too, wordlessly tending to Brienne’s things. She still wore the softly colored dress she had worn to dinner. Biting her lips Brienne tried to pull herself together, fast. “My Lady, can I help you out of your dress?” Brienne eyed her painted dressing screen and nodded curtly. It was easier that way.

While the girl made quick work of detangling the bowknots that held the lavish dress on her body. “It is really honorable how you defended the little miss Joy.” Brienne didn’t look at Winifred, eyes stinging again. “You behave very differently to what the people here expected of a new Lady Lannister. I suppose other high-born girls would have bragged with their marriage to Ser Jaime, would have treated a bastard as it is expected. Many might respect your honor, my Lady.”

Brienne’s throat was tight.

But whatever she did, it was not enough.


	23. Jaime VIII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getting ready to receive his kin’s company as slow as possible, Jaime’s head was swimming. He had to do something to make sure Brienne was behaving before his uncle was leaving again, as everything that was happening here would find his father’s ears one way or another.
> 
> “Jaime, please be so kind and explain to your cousin that he needs to have to fuck his wife, before-“
> 
> “Father-“, Lancel had the sense to blush with embarrassment. “That has nothing to do with cousin Jaime-“

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys,  
> I am very late this week lol. I hope you are all fine!

Jaime was sitting at his bedroom desk and took a deep breath. It was again not that early anymore but he really didn’t want to spend time with his family after what happened yesterday evening. The supper had been cut short after his damned wife had retired to her rooms.

He had dreaded the looks his uncle had shot him. Because he had looked weak to them not being able to control the girl. Joy for her part had known her place and had been nothing but silent and small as it was expected of her.

Now Kaevan wanted to talk to him about something. With Lancel.

He dipped his quill into dark ink but ended up just staring at his answer to Myrcella. Nothing he could over her felt sincere. And everything he could tell her about love seemed simultaneous too much, too dangerous and too little, too dishonest.

With a sigh, he shoved it all away and stood.

Getting ready to receive his kin’s company as slow as possible, Jaime’s head was swimming. He had to do something to make sure Brienne was behaving before his uncle was leaving again, as everything that was happening here would find his father’s ears one way or another.

“Jaime, please be so kind and explain to your cousin that he needs to have to fuck his wife, before-“

“Father-“, Lancel had the sense to blush with embarrassment. “That has nothing to do with cousin Jaime-“

“He is the acting Lord of this House so if you want to obey your father you will obey your liege.”

Jaime already regretted attending the meeting. Because why? Who decided that he had to deal with this? He was vaguely aware that his cousin did look up to him, in a few ways he was like all naïve young boys. Someone his father would be interested in molding to his views. Jaime knew that Lord Tywin would want him to argue to Lancel that he needed to bed his wife. Just Jaime didn’t give to shits about Lancel, his wife, or their joke of a marriage.

If he was honest, he didn’t think Lancel would ever be capable of taming the Frey girl to his will. With the things, Jaime had heard in the capital and he had heard enough as it was, he doubted that she would ever be faithful to this from her perspective- forced marriage, let alone be sexually satisfied with someone like Lancel.

Speaking of: “Well, I could order you.”, Jaime started, wondering when he would have time to practice sword fighting today. (It felt like finding time for his physical workout become more difficult with every day and every new stupid problem. “But Lancel you have to understand that we as part of House Lannister don’t always get a choice.”

His cousin furrowed his brows like a stubborn child, Jaime waited for him to pout like one too. “Well, I don’t think Lord Tywin didn’t plan for my situation when he enforced those rules. My wife-“, he spat that word like poison. “is a whore. And I refuse to stay with her when I deserve a good pious and obedient-“

Jaime rolled his eyes already hitting the bottom of his patience before noon. “Let me assure you my father and also your father doesn’t give a shit what and what not you want in a wife. She could be an old ugly whore and Lord Tywin would still support Uncle’s decision.”

Lancel gaped at him like a choking fish. It would have been funny if it wasn’t wasting his time. Uncle Kevan at least seemed pleased with his harsh approach to his son. “I-I-“, Gods, someone slap that boy. “Do you think I wanted to wed my wife? It was an order from the King.”

“Sure, the Lady Brienne is no beauty but she has her own inheritance and-“

“Lancel.”, Kevan cut him off. “What do you know about the current Lord Darry?” And there it was he supposed. Jaime had also not understood this sudden and quick marriage but he also knew that his Uncle would never do anything to endanger their house or displease his brother. He was since Jaime could remember, loyal to a fault.

“The Darry’s are loyal to the Targaryens… I mean I know that her mother is one of them, but-“

“No. They were loyal to Aerys and only recognized Rhaegar because his father was murdered. But Lord Reymun had always been a bit resentful because Rhaegar let Robert live after the rebellion was squashed. He felt like his brothers died for nothing. Pardoning Jaime…” his uncle’s green eyes flickered over to him again. “And now releasing him from his duty without any reputation for him or Tywin seem to only put salt into his imaginary wounds.”

“Doesn’t Lord Darry have a son?”

Kevan shrugged. “A ten-year-old.”

“So, you married me to a whore with the feeble hope that I might inherit her uncle’s lands? If what- He does something reckless?”

“Amerei’s brother died as a toddler. There is no son there that can inherit anything-“

“But there are more Frey’s with Darry mothers who would have a better claim…”

Lancel now looked positively annoyed and let out a low groan that was met by a stern look of his father. “Do you think the King cares for Freys?”

“Well, nothing I have learned about him makes me think he cares especially for Lannisters either…”

Jaime shut his eyes for a moment. “Lancel, I personally don’t care if you or if you do not lay her.”, he chuckled dryly. “I mean it could be fun, at least she seems to know what she is doing-“

“Jaime!”

“But it would be better for you to do so if whatever my father is calculating with might be fruitful. At least then she can’t get rid of you. If not”, he shrugged, “I don’t think this one will keep to one bed. Especially if you stay so boring.” Lancel grimaced at him. “But if I bed her. I can’t get an annulment either-“

“Enough!”, Kevan was done with that antagonizing part of their situation. “We stay at the Rock another two days before leaving for King’s Landing. You will do your duty until then and if I have to stand next to your marriage bed!” Yikes. Jaime didn’t want to imagine how incredibly awkward that would be. But to hear that his family would depart so soon, filled him with relief. (Even if that left him in a castle alone with his wife…)

Lancel left annoyed and muttering. Jaime had his doubts that he would follow thru with Ser Kevan’s request. 

His uncle slumped down in a seat, for a moment anyway. As fast as his breath left him, he was already straightened out again. Jaime decided not to mention the Frey situation again anytime soon.

“So, you leave for Kingslanding soon?”

His uncle nodded with a sigh. “Well, Lancel and I will or we will see if he goes. I swear to the gods if that boy keeps behaving like this… The woman and kids will stay in Lannisport.”

Jaime held back his own sigh because he started to understand some things…

“You were just here to check on me?”

The anger that rose at that was harder to suppress. Sure, it was obvious from the start that this wasn’t a courtesy visit, but they left so soon? And the fact that his wretched wife had acted like this for what seemed to have been the only chance to prove himself…

His father really didn’t trust him with anything. And how things were going right now, he would just feel vindicated-

“Well, we also escorted the Ladies up here from the Riverlands…”, the objection was weak on the older man’s tongue. Jaime sneered as he turned to look out the window. Warm sunshine on the blue sea greeted him. “Yes because Kingslanding isn’t in between and this wasn’t just one gigantic detour.”

Kevan didn’t answer that. “You are doing better than I would have imagined. Your last lesion to run a castle had been a while back.” The empty complement just fueled the fire burning in his chest. Jaime knew he was in over his head. T

here had been mistaken in his calculations of storage space. He had caused more strife between two merchant families with his judgment of a minor dispute between their sons. The fact that the Marbrands had returned Joy without any explanation and of course the obvious problems in his marriage and lack of pregnancy….

It was like he was drowning in a sea of responsibility he was not adapt for anymore (maybe he never was in the first place) and all he could think was that Cersei was probably better at this than him. Hell, Tyrion was better than him. He was the least qualified sibling.

“I am sure father won’t see it that way, Uncle.”, he turned again schooling his features. “Please extent my love to Cersei and Tyrion when you arrive in the capital”

He left the room before Kevan had a chance to answer.

__

_Dear Myrcella,_

That felt like too little for the things she had shared with him, too impersonal and average for the trust she had extended – Trust he didn’t deserve in any shape or form.

_My beloved niece,_

That was just one big lie for one too many reasons-

_Myrcella,_

Worse. All over worse.

_My soft-hearted niece,_

That might do. It got across how he disapproved of her softness but also felt for her.

_I hope you are well._

No. she obviously did bad.

With another soft groan, he banned the sorry excuse for a letter into a drawer and tried to focus on a request from a number of noble houses for him to take their sons as squires and pages. Jaime had no interest to have a kid or three running around him again, not to mention those boys would grow into teenagers.

When he finally got enough trying to find a somewhat fair- scratch that some criteria to choose who would potentially invite here, he stood again. The late afternoon air breezed in from his open window.

He shot a last look to his desk which seemed even more crowded than the last days somehow. Ugh. Curtly he grabbed a cloak and stalked outside. Being in the gardens of the Rock was a nostalgic and regrettable affair.

Those parts of the castle were nothing special at first glance, a nice enough maintained garden with flowers trees, and fruit native to the area, but Jaime knew what a lovely magic place it had been when his mother had been in charge. When he walked those paths he felt her absence like a blade to the heart even though he had only a few years with her compared to the rest of his life.

Mostly he felt Lady Joanna’s absence in the way her father had grown even more hard and unyielding than he had been anyway. She had always been able to smooth his edges. Maybe it would have been easier for all three of their children if she hadn’t died, maybe Cersei would have been able to love Tyrion maybe just a little bit. Maybe their family could be happy.

He marched up the main path past what had once been his mother’s rose bed but now stood barren, a prominent scar in the heart of the Rock when he heard giggling.

Behind another turn under a large (large for a groomed castle garden) cheery tree, sat the Lannister woman, the ones that resided here right now anyway. They were delicately placed on a pretty blanket, so the lace of their dresses wouldn’t blemish with the dirty of the garden.

Even Lady Dorna. Was sitting here with the younger girls, chatting and working on the embroidery on a- what looked like one of her husband's shirts. Her little daughter was sitting by her side, happily grabbing at daisies. It was peaceful in a way that made Jaime’s throat tighten with unnamed emotion.

His wife was not wearing a dress anymore which was not something he would have expected of her given the company, but she was smiling broad and bright, listening to the conversation between his Lady servant and the Frey girl.

Jaime didn’t wait for any of them to notice him, but almost fleed the scene.

The weird feeling contracting his chest was pushed back and sealed with a bit of strain as he dropped back into his chair, grabbing the letter to Myrcella, finally finishing it.

_My soft-hearted niece,_

_I hope writing this letter to me might have already helped you in some shape or form. Tyrion always talks about the power of the written word._

_Because there is not much I can offer you as far as advice goes since my own betrothal only lasted a few days before marrying. Obvious you will be betrothed to the Stark boy much longer than that. And even more obvious: I am not a young girl._

_I had to think about marriage only breathly before joining the white sords. Your grandfather wanted me to marry Lysa Tully out of all people. Since then I never had to think much about it, before this year it was and well, again I got married almost immediately to a stranger…_

_I’d like to tell you that we know each other better now that we spent some time together but she still seemed to be little more than an insolent child. Well, we both do your work separately. But things are moving forward either way…_

_I wish I could tell you something else, but that is the reality for many Lord and Ladies. Not everyone could marry for love like your Grandfather. Maybe your wish will come true and Robb will at least turn out to be a loyal friend._

_Cersei’s marriage to your father Robert had been rather quick too. I am sad to know that you fear that your betrothal might end in a similar position. But Robb Stark seems to have this annoying sense of honor he shares with his father. Maybe you will never be in love but you will be respected._

_Lord Stark seems to love his wife rather obnoxiously. Their circumstances had been similar to your parents and still, they wound up in love._

Jaime curtly ignored the concern she seemed to have about her attractiveness. Commenting on that seemed to cross a dangerous line. He had never thought of Myrcella beyond her resemblance to Cersei and he didn’t want to think about what this train of thought might imply

_Try your best to befriend him, if he doesn’t want you it is his loss._

_With best wishes  
Jaime._


	24. Brienne VIII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He drew his own sword and flipped it easily in his hand. “Do you mind if I join in?” He took another step away from them and pulled Lancel’s sword out of the dirt by its polished hilt, passing it to Brienne, who caught it just in time. His cousin opened his mouth to argue, but Jaime glared. “It would be unfair if my lovely wife has to do with a child’s toy while I wield a real weapon, don’t you think?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! Happy new year. I was busier on new year than I tought lol.  
> I hoppe you are not that lonley in 2021.  
> Here we go with some more Braime development.

Brienne was getting ready for her day, chatting with Winifred and Joy who were sitting on her bed. They were planning on eating with the two other Lady Lannisters in Brienne’s drawing-room, leaving the men to themselves ones more. Something that had occurred regularly since the disastrous dinner on the first day of their guests' arrival.

Since then Brienne had not spoken to Ser Jaime and she could not say that she had missed him terribly. After all, he had only yelled at her for half of their marriage. On the other hand, she seemed to get along with Amerei Frey way better than she had originally thought.

Yes, the girl seemed to be enamored with her husband, but it seemed to stem from this idealistic admiration for true knights. It was adorable to listen to her rant about song and stories and on the occasion her new good mother was not around, her last love, a poor but charming hedge knight she had been involved with.

Brienne had no idea how to feel about the other girl talking about her experiences so freely when she herself was still a maiden. (Not that she could share that information with anyone…) The dichotomy between the sweet girl that was in front of her and the contemptuous stories that were past around her didn’t seem to match at all. Especially after Brienne had learned that Ami’s dejected silence on the first day had been nerves rather than disinterested.

It took her a few days to understand that Ami’s habit of giving her body freely to men she admired did in fact not contradict her romantic character. It was a variety of it.

Speaking of: When Brienne just stepped from behind her dressing screen wearing breeches and a doublet in Tarth colors, there was a knock on her door, and Ami, dressed in light blue wool, dropped next to Joy easily. Her pretty face was stretched into a bright smile.

A smile that was contagious to every other girl in the room. Brienne’s own laugh was soft as she moved over to them and excepted the jewelry Winifred had picked out for her, Lannister colors as a compromise.

“You seem to be happy this beautiful morning, Lady Ami.”, Joy was fiddling with her own delicate neckless, a gift her late father had left her, a small lion pendant. Ami sighed as an answer and let herself fall back into Brienne’s crimson sheets, her yellow hair and blue skirt fanning out. “I am very happy indeed, cousin Joy.” The young girl’s smile grew. Ami had addressed Joy like this on the second day of their stay and since then it had stuck. It was nicer than Lady Dorna who had referred to Joy as the ‘Hill girl’ behind her back. “My husband has made love to me, finally, last night.”

Young Joy lighted up in crimson as bright as the sheets, while Brienne felt some heat in her cheeks too. Here was the nonchalant way Ami talked about those things again. She did have the mind not to boast her romantic adventures in Lady Dorna’s presence, but when it was just ‘the girls’ she liked to pine after men battle-hardened and beautiful alike.

“Not that I think he fell in love with me, but him enjoying himself should be enough for now.”, she sat up again, straightening out her hair. “Unfortunately I didn’t enjoy it as much as I would have liked. He is a pretty boy but he is in no shape or form considerable…” Brienne was really preoccupied with her pink sleeves all of the sudden. “Pity. He is pretty and has a beautiful voice.” She smiled again. Which did not alliance with her words.

“If you didn’t-“, Winifred spoke and closed her mouth again when Ami’s smile turned sharp. “But now he can’t return me to my grandfather’s castle. So, I did what my father wanted. Not that I did much in my life that my father would appreciate. He is not a bad man, you know? I do understand his worry for me. It is not easy coming from a house with this many members and being able to match advantageous marriages.”

She smiled at Brienne, wistfully.

“You are so lucky Brienne. Ser Jaime is talented, tall, and beautiful. He probably knows how to treat a woman.”

Masking her studdering with a cough Brienne told her the first thing that came to mind: “You might think that but he is all around rather selfish…” She thought about the way he had pinned her against the cold stone that night, how he had talked to her like he was so high and mighty and she should feel special breathing the same air as him.

The feeling of being chastised and being vulnerable even though she towered over the man with ease. What was it? His age? His experience? She thought about his dangerous low voice and the way his rapid heartbeat had felt under her hand…

“Well, that’s a pity too, but that seems to apply to many noble Lordlings.”, She took the short moment of disappointment with ease. “They all think the world revolves around them because they get a castle when their father dies.”

Brienne smiled. “I am also the heir to a castle.”

“See. You are nothing but his equal.”, Ami nodded expertly. “If you don’t like it here anymore you could just take- I suppose your second child will be the heir to Evenfall? Just take them and go home. With your own inheritance, you have options outside of your husband. So much freedom. I envy you!”

Her tone was still light but Brienne felt bad instantly, being immediately aware of who her friends were and to what standing her marriage had actually brought her too. Sure Tarth was smaller than the twins, but she was her father’s only issue. The uncontested heir, while the river caste just swarmed with Frey cousin who seemed to take every opportunity to one-up each other in front of their Lord.

(The thought of having to have children with this man, being bound to him by children forever… Having to potentially abandon a child with him, with Tywin, with Cersei if she wanted to go home for good…)

Brienne was rescued from answering by a timid knock on the door. When she answered, quiet Podrick Payne pushed the door ajar. When he saw that her bedroom was packed, he grew even more nervous. “My Ladies. Lady Dorna is awaiting you for breakfast.”

She winced. Not good luck since she was supposed to be the Lady of the Castle but she thanked the timid boy and the girls went to have a nice and calm breakfast.

__

Later that day Winifred, Ami, and Joy were sitting in the gardens again as they had done several times that week since the weather was nice and warm. They were drinking sweetened cold tea and watched Brienne train her sword form even without an opponent.

It had been uplifting to know that the other women didn’t judge her for her masculine interest, but Joy had just shrugged, telling her that she could not judge as a bastard anyway and Winifred assured her that they were already friends anyway.

Ami’s reaction was very characteristic as far as Brienne could tell: Wide-eyed and excited to see someone so close to being a chivalrous knight, that’s what she had called Brienne anyway. The taller girl had been a bit uncomfortable with all the positive attention. Ami was not shy to call out all the things she admired about Brienne.

She spun the dulled blade in her hand, as “Amerei? Where are you?”

Lancel stepped closer to them, wearing rich red colors with a big lion pin that held his cape in place. Ami stood easily when she saw him, but her husband's eyes were trained on Brienne with a distanced look of disapproval. Brienne suppressed the urge to roll her eyes.

“Yes, my Lord?”, the girl waited for him to continue and let Brienne be, which the other girl appreciated. “I expect you for dinner in an hour. I-“

His eyes kept traveling back to the sword in Brienne’s hand, his own fingers traveling to the finely crafted hilt of his own sword.

“I would love to join you for dinner, husband.”, Ami smiled, her pretty smile at him, but he had now completely turned to Brienne, scoffing at her dulled blade. “I was not aware that my cousin had married another man.”, he said, seemingly proud of himself for the slight. While all it did, make Brienne feel incredibly tired. She was used to so much worse. Funny how those things didn’t seem to change now that she was a Lannister.

But she supposed her new title was not all that impressive to other Lannisters.

Ami tried to approach him, there was nothing left of the light happiness she had displayed just a moment ago. The girl really displayed her emotions openly on her face. Now her light eyes shone with concern. “Lancel.”, she got ahold of his hand as he unsheathed his sword.

Her husband's green eyes found hers and the patronizing expression he wore. He patted her hand with his free like she was a small girl. “Don’t worry, wife. I just have a friendly sparring with our wannabe knight here.”

Brienne for her part had no problem with the idea of dueling Lancel. He had seen him train in the yard regularly. It was no secret that yes, he was good but not as good as he clearly thought he was. Being able to obtain the knight title at a fairly young age, might do that to people.

She took a deep breath and assumed the right position, raising to the challenge the other Lannister had provoked. They exchanged some easy blows. Brienne was careful to observe the other’s movements, to find an opening. After a while it became obvious how overeager he was, not caring for his defense. It was easy to irritate him after realizing that and to pick up her own pace.

“Please stop, cousin Lancel.”, Joy had gotten up to, but the man ignored her like he ignored his wife. Brienne paired another blow. He got aggregated from the easy way she was matching him, but her shoulders were wider than his and her step surer.

A few well places japs, later Lance’s sword flew out of his hand and borrowed itself into the soft soil. Another jap to his thigh and Lancel snarled in pain kneeling before her. Quickly the dull steel found his throat.

“What is the meaning of this?”, Brienne’s blood ran cold, hearing Ser Jaime’s voice behind her. Lancel’s snarl turned smug then. For whatever reason, she did not understand. It was common knowledge that her father let her learn how to use a sword. Sure, Jaime and she had never talked about it, but he could not be unaware of it. Besides, it was not her fault that he was so arrogant with so little to back it up.

She let the sword against his skin go limp and turned to her husband. Jaime watched the scene with an unreadable expression. Then he broke out into a grin, a dangerous glint in his green eyes. “Are we now losing against little girls, _Ser_ Lancel?”

Brienne frowned at him. “I am terribly sorry, my Lady. You are of course hardly little.” He circled them. Lancel was still sitting on the grass, his sword still plunged into the soft earth.

He drew his own sword and flipped it easily in his hand. “Do you mind if I join in?” He took another step away from them and pulled Lancel’s sword out of the dirt by its polished hilt, passing it to Brienne, who caught it just in time. His cousin opened his mouth to argue, but Jaime glared. “It would be unfair if my lovely wife has to do with a child’s toy while I wield a real weapon, don’t you think?”

Lancel’s blade lay a bit lighter in her hand than her own sword (which regrettably lay tugged away in her chamber). It was a good sword tough, nicely balanced, and sharp. “What do you say, wife? Show me how you have defeated Lancel so easily?”

It was surreal. First Jaime hadn’t spoken to her in days. Now, he was challenging her to a duel and she was not even sure if he intended to fight to injure. Sure, she still angry with him, fed up with his Lannister arrogance, but she still had to acknowledge his skill. She doubted he became so famous for nothing.

The first few moments they were circling around each other, watching waiting. The scene was eerily quiet with Lancel sitting next to Ami now, while Winifred held Joy’s hand in anticipation. Brienne’s nerves were strung to the breaking point. This felt so much more significant than either a friendly spar or malicious fighting.

Suddenly Jaime picked up the speed, pressure Brienne into a defensive stance. She was a bit out of breath by that point, having finished her own routine and having a short quarrel with Lancel earlier. She was not ready to back down tough. She turned to change her direction, the steel singing as the blades met again.

“Jaime! Are you serious right now?”, Lady Dorna was yelling over to them standing by a bed of spring flowers. She stalked closer, with an expression only a disappointed mother could wear. Both Jaime and Brienne winced and broke apart. “I sure hope you young folks have an explanation for this!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: *pointing at Ami Frey*  
> Me: I just think she's neat <3


	25. Brienne IX

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Take care of yourself, sweet.”, Lady Dorna held Brienne’s chin in her hand, having to climb to her tiptoe’s to do so “And keep up the good work.”, she murmured. “I will, my Lady.”, she was already climbing onto the carriage when Brienne replied.
> 
> Jaime stepped to her side and she was waving to Ami and the kids until they were barely in view anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Friends!  
> I hope you are all fine. I had a kinda shitty day my depression was kicking my ass and I am mad at all the ppl who ignore the lockdown to do god knows what...  
> At least I have time to write?

Ami healed her big hands in her delicate one., the other girls and Lady Dorna sitting around them enjoying breakfast as usual. “We all have to meet up in town as soon as possible.”. Her smiley face turned to the eldest woman. “Of course only after I made sure to support my dear good mother in her duties.”

The Lady set her small teacup back on the table. She was already wearing a heavy traveling cloak, dyed royal red. “I am sure we will find something for you to do.”, the was amusement swinging in her voice. Ami nodded. “you must bring Cousin Joy and dear Winifred!”

Brienne promised to see her as soon as possible.

Shortly after the meal, it was time to say their goodbyes to Ser Kevan and Ser Lancel. But when the Ladies rounded a corner they were met with Lancel’s yelling before even seeing the youth. “You are so useless! Give that to me!”

When the horses came into view, they just caught how he pulled the reigns out of Podrick Payne’s little hands and rearranging them himself. The boy stayed quiet and moved out of the way, keeping his distance from the Lannister knights. “Father, do I have to endure this incompetence any longer.” He glared at Podrick, but the boy didn’t react.

Anger was balling up in her guts again. Gods, the only boy she knew how seemed to behave worse than Lancel was Joffrey and he wasn’t even a Lannister by birth. Someone had to do something to protect Podrick and if a castle of knights won't.

Suddenly there was a hand pressing to her wrist. Brienne turned to meet Joy’s eyes. The girl shook her head subtly. A gesture that made Brienne only angrier for a moment.

“I will not take him with me!”, Lancel voiced his unwanted opinion again. “The Payne’s are a loyal vassal house of your uncle’s and Ser Illyan one of the most efficient executioners he had. It is only natural that we take care of his cousin in turn.” Watching Ser Kevan explain those things so calmly and almost disinterested only made Lancel’s childishness stick out. The way he pouted now did not help either.

Jaime was talking to his Uncle taking in a long list of things he needed to keep trek of while he was here ‘alone’. In the end, his uncle clapped his back with a curt smile. While even Jaime talking to him could raise Lancel’s foul mood.

That did not stop Lady Amerei from marching up to him with Sunshine on her face. Lady Dorna also ushered her younger children to their father and it was uncommon for Brienne to see her Good Uncle that soft. His expression went loving as his little girl grabbed after his beard and cried for him to stay with her and mama. It felt as if she was intruding on things no one outside House Lannister knew.

“Save voyage, my Knight.”, Dorna Lannister kissed her husband on the cheek. It was almost adorable. On the other side, Lancel was still fuming and ignored all of Ami’s attempts of easy intimacy. All he had to spare for her was ice cold courtesy. It was hard to watch.

Brienne watched with woe as Podrick mounted his own Pony. The boy looked too small on it and it had nothing to do with his stature or the way his colored cloak was obviously made for someone taller, but with the way, he clamped his mouth shut whenever Ser Kevan wasn’t watching.

Soon after a small portion of the men Lancel and Kevan had brought with them left for King’s Landing again.

A few hours later after lunch, Brienne had Ami pressed to her side in a warm hug while Lady Dorna secured her remaining children in the wheel cart that would bring them to the city. The twin boys didn’t want to leave as they had too much fun watching Jaime do anything actually. In many ways, they had followed him like two chatty shadows. While little Jaime threw a tantrum as she already missed her father.

It mussed be hard seeing one’s Father so infrequent at such a young age. It made Brienne yearn for her own father’s presence. For her home’s comfort. Would she ever stop feeling like a guest with the Lannister? Would it ever be easier?

Ami separated herself from Brienne after the taller woman petted her back for a while. “I will write to you. And we have to meet soon! You promised!”, Then she hugged Winifred and Joy with the same voguer and lastly bowed her head to Jaime who wished her safe travels.

Lady Dorna turned back to Jaime to have a word with him. Her stern eyes on him made him look like a scorned child. It reminded her of the incident they had yesterday. She had given them both a piece of her mind in the strict but somehow warm way only a mother could she supposed. Brienne believed that she was only angry because she had worried for their safety.

But given the fact that neither Brienne nor Jaime grew up with a mother, the whole situation had a weird undertone to it. But all in all, she had enjoyed to stand her own against her husband. Jaime had to learn that she was not a shy maiden not when it came to her sword anyway.

“Take care of yourself, sweet.”, Lady Dorna held Brienne’s chin in her hand, having to climb to her tiptoe’s to do so “And keep up the good work.”, she murmured. “I will, my Lady.”, she was already climbing onto the carriage when Brienne replied.

Jaime stepped to her side and she was waving to Ami and the kids until they were barely in view anymore.

For a heartbeat or two, Jaime and Brienne stood there with their household, unsure of what to say to each other. Before yesterday's sword fight, they hadn’t said an unnecessary word to each other. Now Brienne could think of a hundred things to say but none of them felt completely right…

But the moment passed and very gingerly, everybody got back to their business. Brienne bit her tongue and ignored the masked looks and hushed voices. What was she to do about it? Jaime hadn’t slept in her bed in weeks which one - did not go unnoticed to the inhabitants of the keep and two – was counterproductive to their little scheme. It was tiring.

Winifred’s arm was tucked under Brienne’s as they used the time before supper to walk the gardens in peace and quiet.

But her own thoughts didn’t leave her alone of course. No matter how she looked at it, she needed to talk to Ser Jaime again. She needed to make clear what she wanted from him and demand it. Right now all she wanted from him, was to know where they stood. If he was the man she had a glips of here and there or the false knight everyone else saw in him?

But this was about her safety and how much that frightened her, she had to think about her house’s future. Her father would die eventually, no matter how much she dreaded the thought. So, either she needed insurance that there will be another match when she leaves Ser Jaime, or… they needed to talk about children.

Which, was defiantly the worse option.

Winifred looked at her with worry and Brienne shot her a weak smile while she squeezed her hand. “Stay with Joy this meal, will you?”

__

Making a decision and following thru with it were, unfortunately, two very different things. Brienne cursed herself as she stood before Ser Jaime’s study, with a tray of food in hand and now she was hesitant to knock. Which was ridiculous.

She took another deep breath, rehearsed what she was going to say, and finally, her fist found the sturdy wood. A mumbled answer and she stepped in. Jaime didn’t even look up to her but she just placed the food on a corner of his desk that wasn’t littered with paper and books.

“What-“, Jaime’s head jerked up and he stopped in the middle of his snappy remark. “You are missing supper, my Lord.” Brienne filled a bowl with soup and passed it to him. Jaime looked at it, at his work, and then at her and took it with a sigh.

“You really don’t take no for an answer.”, he chuckled. Brienne rolled her eyes at him already annoyed. “I am just done with putting up with you.”

“Putting up with me?”, his spoon stopped halfway between on its way to his mouth. She would have laughed if he didn’t seem so generally displeased by it. “Yes? Or don’t you remember the dinner a few weeks ago-?”

“I did tell you-!”, she raised her hand to hush him. He looked a lot like Lancel when he was pouting. It was just a tiny-tiny bit endearing. “I don’t want to rehash that fight-“, she paused. “I want to talk about your relationship or the lack of it.”

Finally, Jaime gave her his full attention. “The whole point of you sleeping in my bed every night was to make sure people wouldn’t question our marriage. Now obviously we haven't done that and again rumors fly around the keep and maybe have already reached the Capital. Which is probably the last thing we need-“

“So, I go meet you in your chambers in a bit.”, he broke away a piece of bread and shoved it into his mouth. “Problem solved.” Brienne fiddled with utensils. She was still angry with him about how he treated Joy and then her in front of Ser Kevan. “Well, it really isn’t…” When he shot her a questioning look, she kept going: “If you want an annulment we should be kept separate but if we do that your father might force us to-“

“Technically he can’t force us.”, Jaime interjected unhelpfully. “Yes technically it was also legal for the blackfish to refuse to marry but now everyone only knows him as black fish and the sanctions his brother established. So, if we go that direct route it might cost us.”

“Why can't we just carry on then?”

“If we carry on like before, then there has to be a valid reason as to prove that we, in fact, didn’t sleep together, one the faith will except, way more importantly one the King would except. And no I don’t think they except my ugliness as an excuse.”

Jaime’s eyes searched for hers. “I never actually said you were ugly.” Now Brienne really wanted to hit that smirk off his face. “You constantly mocking me and my ‘beauty’ counts, Arsehole…”

“That my own wife would make such a foul language in her sweet mouth- Fuck!” He blinked at her and now it was Brienne who was grinning. “Did you just kick me underneath the table?” She feigned innocence. “Of course not, my Lord. I would never.”

“But to come back to the point of this meeting.”, Brienne didn’t want to dwell on the way being here and talking freely made her feel like he was her friend. Because he wasn’t. In a multitude of ways was Jaime Lannister still her enemy. “The third option would be us just going thru with it. For us to be married and to stay married. We would have to have at least two kids of course but in due time I could leave for Tarth and you would never have to see me again…”

Jaime kept quiet for a moment or two, anyway enough time for Brienne to start panicking. “You think I would want that?”, he asked softly, dangerously. She could do nothing more than a shrug. “if you get rid of me your father would just marry you off to someone else. If what you want is to be King’s guard again then I am afraid it will never happen again…”

She sighed and stood. “Just think about it, ok? What do you want from this marriage?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This not the last time we see Pod, promised!  
> Will Braime get their stuff togehter?  
> Another question what is you guys oppinion of Character x OC stories?  
> I like to read the stories fromtheboundlesssea is posting here and I was asked for some Robb x OC ideas recently on tumblr...  
> Would you guys be intrested to see my spin on such things?


	26. Rhaenys IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She still could not even think about forgiving her father without hot blind rage threatening to drown her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all I want to thank @LadyAmara2381 for volunteering as my beta reader. :)

Rhaenys could not believe what she was hearing. Her father was looking at her with those cold lilac eyes and if she had less self-control she would have tried to slap him.

But this was her father and King and as much as she would have felt gratified, she needed to keep a cool head, no matter how much he deserved it.

“Excuse me, your majesty. I am afraid I have misheard you.”, she pressed out with a fake smile. Rhaegar had no smiles for his daughter. “You heard my quiet alright.”

“Father! Mother might be better now, but she is in no condition to travel. Please, you can’t-“, the King dropped his palms flat on his desk, fixing his daughter over the sound. “I am the King and I can do anything I want!”

Her resolve from earlier broke away already. “No. You will not compromise my mother’s safety because, why-? Why now?”

“My wife is quite able to travel and you should be concerned with your own journey, child.” He threw a venomous glare at Lord Connington, who had watched their exchange silently from the side. “You shouldn’t even know about my plans for your mother, Rhaenys.”

Jon had the grace to flinch at that, but the Princess just rolled her eyes. “Your Hand is not my source.” The poor man was still in love with her father, Rhaenys knew and she almost pitied him. If it wasn’t for the obvious glee he took from sending Queen Elia away.

“And that should not matter because you can not send her back to my uncle because you grew tired of her. Do you want to take a fucking concubine or why do you-?”

Rhaenys did not flinch away from her father's hand, but the blow never came. The tension between them was tangible while King Rhaegar’s palm was hovering between them. “Go pack, Princess Rhaenys. This conversation is over.”

He left her there and she just seethed in her own anger. Not to know where she should aim it, she did what she usually did when she was mad beyond reason, she went to her brothers.

But then she was disappointed again.

When she rounded the corner to go see Aegon who should be working in his study, she was met with the same little brother, but Margaery Tyrell was hanging on his arm like a cancerous growth, ready to consume him whole. She had no patience for the girl her brother seems to use to distract himself with.

Maybe his childish naïvete would not hurt that much if he hadn’t sworn up and down that he loved her not a few days ago.

In other circumstances, she would have been relieved, happy that Aegon had found someone more deserving of his affections than his sister, but she could not bring herself to trust that girl; she could not trust the Tyrells.

Aegon watched her with wide eyes. “Rhaenys. Were you on your way to me?” Margaery lowered her head in greeting. “My Lady”, she put a conversational smile on her face, pretty and unassuming. “I was actually searching for Jon. Have you seen him?”

“He should be in his room? Packing just like you should-“, Aegon was sending her confused looks, but Rhaenys was glad she would leave soon. She could not bear to be in his presence like this. When she vanished behind the next corner, her smile dropped again.

Rhaenys really thought she deserved a break, just a hug from her baby brother, anything, but no. When she reached Jon’s rooms, which were already missing a good part of his things, it was not Jon that was sitting on his bed.

Robb Stark looked up from the history book in his hands when she had stopped in the door frame. His clear blue eyes were searching her face and his pink lips were curled into a charming smile.

“You are not Jon.”, she said intelligently, feeling the first honest smile of the day bloom on her own lips. He wore a fine and tight-fitting doublet in ice-blue, accentuating his Tully coloring. “No. He ran out a while back because one of his chests was mislabeled and falsely loaded for the journey.”

She nodded still feeling like she wanted to scream. Robb cocked his head to his side. An adorable mannerism. “Are you alright?”

Rhaenys took a deep breath and forced her balled-up fingers out of her red dress. “I am quite fine, thank you. I just wished to talk to my brother, but it can wait until later.” The easy smile from earlier was gone and she didn’t think it would come back any time soon.

To her surprise Robb reached for her. Mid-air he seemed to think better of it and curled his fingers into his palm. He cleared his throat. “If something is bothering you, your highness, feel free to make use of my time.” His smile was thin and lopsided. The longer she was watching his face the more of his freckles could she see.

“That is kind of you. But I don’t even know what to do myself. I would not want to strain you with my problems, Robb.”

His name would always feel weird on her lips. She was not supposed to be close to her brother’s Stark cousins, not after what her father had done to her mother by taking Lyanna Stark to his bed. She was not supposed to like them. She was not to like their sky blue eyes and warm smiles and she was not supposed to like the sound of their names on her tongue.

“Just tell Jon I was looking for him.”

__

A moment or two later Rhaenys found herself at her mother’s side of the royal quarters. Knocking, she tried to rid her head of thoughts of Stark boys. Her mother’s voice was as soft and melodic as ever. “Come in, sunshine. I have waited for you all morning.”

“Am I so predictable?”, she moved to her mother’s side and buried her face in her lap. Queen Elia did not hesitate and put a soothing hand through her oldest’s hair. “Apparently not. I expected you earlier and well, angrier.” There was a song of laughter dancing in her voice and Rhaenys could not help the tears now.

Everything was falling apart in front of her.

Mother would be sent away, rumors of her father’s alleged infidelity will not stop and only grow louder with the - what seemed like the Queen's explement from court. That was if she survived the journey south.

Gods, Rhaenys was on her way in an entirely different direction. Would she ever see her mother again?

She had been pacified that while she and Jon would be away, at least her mother would be here to assist her brother. But as things stood Aegon would be alone amidst harpies who at best wanted his crown and at worst his life.

Dany would be alone with no one but Aegon to protect her against Viserys’ vile cruelty.

Who would protect them if she was gone?

Who would care about Aegon’s gentle heart was broken if Margaery Tyrell was lying to him for his title?

Who would mend Danaerys’ soft desire for love when her brother would shatter and shame all her dreams again?

Who would even care to protect them?

She could have screamed. Jon was the person who needed her the least. He had it all figured out. He had the most intact family, no matter how ironic the fact. and as far as she could tell he would be so much happier north. He had never really been Targaryen not in the way Aeg or even she was. He had been all Stark but in name.

“Sunshine.” her mother's words were a soft reminder of reality. “You can’t protect them forever. Your brothers are men grown. You should leave them to make their own mistakes. As for me.” She smiled beautifully. Rhaenys ached with the knowledge that she could never be so calmly beautiful as her mother.

She was like the worst properties of her families combined. The viper’s temperament, she was just as passioned and loud about her opinion as her Uncle Oberyn, and there was Dragonfire burning in her heart. She tried to deny it, but it was there. And it just waits to explode inside her, dangerous, exciting.

“I can take care of myself.” Elia brushed away her tears. “Don’t look at me like that, Sunshine. I’ve been fighting this battle way longer than you. We both know I will be happier with my brothers than here in this awful weather.”

Rhaenys managed a snort.

“I trust you, children. You are not perfect, no one is, but I did my best to raise you.” A moment of hesitation. “I know you have your differences with your father but try to forgive him.”

“Mother-“

“Without him, I wouldn’t have you, and Aegon and I love you both more than anything in the world. Even Jon. I- I see how much you two love him. He would not be here if things had gone differently.”

Rhaenys could not breathe as her vision blurred with angry tears. How could she say that? Forgiveness? How could her mother talk about forgiveness after all the pain and humiliation he dragged her through and still did to this day? How was that even an option? Father had been out there with another woman while Rhaenys had prayed to the gods that her Papa might save her… The day Lord Tywin had stormed the Keep… She had never been more afraid in her life. And her father had been away with another child-

She took a deep breath.

“Not for his sake, but for yours. You should finally be free from all this anger and bitterness, so there is room for better things. Happiness and love, Sunshine. Don’t let your father ruin that for you too. If I have learned anything in my lifetime, then it is that you should seek happiness in all the things you can choose and not to waste energy on those things you can’t change…”

Another deep breath.

Rhaenys closed her eyes and focused on the feeling on her mother’s fingers against her scalp, the feeling of her warm body underneath her, the sweet smell of her scent like the spiced soap she used and the tea she loved and childhood, home, the way her heartbeat was indicating that her mother was alive and here next to her.

She still could not even think about forgiving her father without hot blind rage threatening to drown her.

A last shivering breath.

“I hate him.”

Her mother gave her a sad look. Rhaenys knew better but she felt like she had disappointed her nonetheless. “I know. And you are allowed to. I just try to tell you: Forgiveness can be freeing. It’s not for him. It is all for you…”

Elia was probably right, but Rhaenys just couldn’t.

That was sad, wasn’t it?

Not that she could not forgive the King. He deserved every ounce of her hatred and anger but that she could not choose herself. She had taken the whole morning fretting over Aegon and Danerys and Jon and her mother and how much she despised her father, but she had not even wasted a single thought on Theon, her future, anything-

What did that tell her about herself?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo, a bit of an emotional rollercoaster...


	27. Robb V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It didn’t get better. If anything, the mood was only darkened by the silence between his fiancé and the Princess. Sansa, bless her heart, tried to lighten the mood a couple of times with innocuous small-talk which proved just as fruitless as Arya’s restless, but earnest insistence on conversation…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello guys.  
> First I want to apologize for taking so long. There were a lot of things on my plate and my newly adopted kitten wont let my sleep just yet.  
> I want to thank Alex for beta reading for me again!

After Rhaenys had left, Robb just sat there feeling like an idiot. What had he even tried to accomplish offering his help? How could he even help? 

Rhaenys , who looked so distraught when she had first seen him, had almost apologized to her. Apologized for not being Jon, for not being able to provide the comfort she obviously needed.

Rhaenys could light up the whole room with her smile and break his heart just as easily with a sad look…

It had tugged on his heartstrings the way she had clearly tried to hide her pain and that was so much worse the longer he thought about it - the way she had failed to do so, as she was usually so hard to read.

It was crazy what kind of strong influence she already had on him, after just a few short weeks of knowing her.

Maybe it should have been more frightening to him.

When Jon came back all disheveled, heaving his chest, huffing and puffing, Robb was quick to give him a hand as well.

When his cousin shot him a grateful smile Robb could not help returning it with a bright grin.

They stepped outside together. Jon in bright red riding leathers and Robb in a fine cloak with white fur trimmings, that were, sadly, only decorations. It was warm enough, but not suitable for the north so it was the last time he would get to wear it before leaving the south.

When they hurried down to the caravan readying itself, someone shouted up to them. Rhaenys was a vision in the same vibrant red, but where Jon was visibly uncomfortable generating so much attention for himself, Rhaenys strode confidently.

Robb could not take his eyes off her. The insecurity from earlier was gone, she was beaming at Jon, her eyes shining vibrantly in the sunlight. He worried about her emotional state still, but a smiling Rhaenys was a regal presence.

He was so distracted that he didn’t notice Myrcella stepping up to them too. She wore a soft pastel dress, high collared, and comfortable looking. A perfect gown for a long journey. When she saw him, her expression darkened. Robb had the decency to feel guilty again…

Again, instead of spending time with her, showing her that he cared, he had spent the morning and noon with the Targaryen siblings.

Dutifully he hurried to her, after making eye contact with Rhaenys for a heartbeat too long. Robb offered Myrcella an arm and the younger girl took it without comment. He didn’t even have time to apologize because they were soon accompanied by her family, the Lannister part of her family…

Robb clamped his mouth shut when Cersei Lannister passed him.

The Lady of Storm’s End was holding herself like a Queen.

When he looked up to the Targaryens, Aegon had joined his siblings and was currently hugging Rhaenys. Robb nodded to Myrcella when she asked for a moment to say goodbye to her mother, and he gladly obliged when Tywin Lannister joined them too.

(He knew all too well about the bad blood between their families and the general distrust his father held for the Lions of the Rock.)

He busied himself with petting his horse’s snout. Sansa and Arya were running around the yard, excited, which meant Arya ran around and Sansa tried her best to keep their sister still for more than two consecutive seconds. Their father was nowhere to be found.

Theon was in a corner, keeping to himself, not looking up from Smiler and sporting an all black, unadorned outfit, the Iron Island’s fashion of choice. He wore the style of his people more and more often after his short reunion with his sister… Robb wanted to go over there, try to mend things, find the connection back to one of his oldest friends. But he also knew that it wasn’t that easy.

And there was the knowledge that - he looked back at his fiancé, whose face was cradled by her terrifyingly beautiful mother – the knowledge that his father helped Lord Robert to smuggle out his bastards from under the Lannister woman’s nose. Gods, he didn’t even know if  _ his mother _ knew what was agreed upon.

Because Robert Baratheon didn’t have  _ few _ bastards.

Speaking of the man, that was exactly who his father was with, and it was hard to miss them when Robert was so loud all the time. His wife looked like she had bitten into something sour when she heard him.

It was probably a factor to why they departed soon after. Robb helped Myrcella into the carriage and mounted his horse after. The atmosphere was oppressively gloomy, and everyone except their father’s seemed to notice. It felt like an eternity until Lord Stark was ready to let them depart.

Gods, Robb had no idea how he would survive such a journey.

It didn’t get better. If anything, the mood was only darkened by the silence between his fiancé and the Princess. Sansa, bless her heart, tried to lighten the mood a couple of times with innocuous small-talk which proved just as fruitless as Arya’s restless, but earnest insistence on conversation…

As things were, he was glad that he could ride with his own thoughts away from the girls. But the air between him and Theon wasn’t any better. Robb was still angry about the things he had said about his father. Lord Stark had taken him in and raised him as his own.

Did Theon think any other Lord would have loved him so earnestly if he was their ward? Did he think anyone else would have taken him on travels like this? He was betrothed to a princess for crying out loud…

A beautiful and kind, and spirited princess, who would make any man happy.

He bit his lip and turned away from his foster brother.

Jon shot him a troubled look as they all made their way down the Kingsroad, the kids all ignoring each other for the most part…

If Eddard Stark noticed, he didn’t say anything.

They all came to a halt by a small inn way too early for Robb’s taste, but the confrontation with Lord Arryn could not be helped.

Arya all but flew out of the carriage up to the other children. “Phil!”. The boy was holding his toddler half sister Faith in his arms but he grinned at her. “Gendry! Stop staring like this. Where is Mya?” Gendry Waters tried to hide his laughter behind a cough as Arya raced to pester him about a thing or two. Mya came up to them too, eventually, carrying Barra the babe and accompanying Jon Arryn.

Ned Stark greeted his foster father respectfully, as Jon, Theon, Sansa, Myrcella, and Rhaenys eventually walked up to them too, curious and confused. By the time they stood around Robb, Arya was bickering with the bastard boys, and Lord Stark and Arryn conversed with hushed voices.

Robb avoided Myrcella’s eye only to flinch away from Theon too…

“Lord Stark, what is the meaning of this? What is Lord Arryn doing so far away from the city?”, Rhaenys eyed the bastards with careful indifference.

But it was evident that she would take nothing but the truth for an answer.

His father shot his mentor a questioning look and when the older men nodded he cleared his throat. “Those children will accompany us up to Winterfell.”, he explained shortly and with a sad look to Myrcella, he added. “My friend Robert Baratheon asked me to look after his illegitimate children… These are some of those.”

Gendry looked a bit overwhelmed when Arya pointed out loudly who Rhaenys and Jon were and Phil starred up at Myrcella with wide, curious blue eyes. It was Mya who bowed to them with an easy charm that was very reminiscent of her father. It also made it apparent that she was used to living in a keep and was raised with courtly manners.

Arya beamed at her sister and the princess. “We, Robb, father, and me, met them before. Phil here said he was faster than me but I don’t believe him, not really, Mya lived in the Eyrie like father too, and Gendry is-“

“Arya, please give them a minute to talk too”, Robb smiled at his youngest sister, ignoring the way Myrcella was certainly staring at him. He didn’t want to face her. He didn’t - what could he even say to make her feel better? Was there anything he could do?

Afterwards everyone introduced themselves more or less smoothly. Little Faith’s eyes grew round too. “Are you a big sister too?”, she asked, grabbing after Myrcella’s skirt. The older girl cringed away. Suddenly all polite chatter came to a hold, while the girl’s lip wavered with sadness.

“Myrcella-“

“Myrcella-“

Both Sansa and Rhaenys were reaching out to the other noble girl but she shook her head with a plastered smile. “Excuse me for a moment.“, she curtsied swiftly and hurried off to the other end of their make-shift camp.

Arya crinkled her eyebrows together. “That was very mean of her!”, she grabbed after Faith to physically pull her from the rejection. “Myrcella is usually nice. Why would she be so-“ Mya crouched next to her little sister and brushed her bangs out of her face.

“Arya", Sansa chastised. “Myrcella didn’t know father would bring her half-siblings with us. She is in shock and needs some time.“

“We won’t bother any of you, my Lady”, Gendry was quick to assure them. “We were taken on this journey with the Lord’s protection, but we“, he rubbed his neck. “At least we older ones know our place, so don’t worry-“

Arya glared up at him as if he was the source of her anger. She tried to shove him, it was adorable. “Don’t say that. You are guests! Just as Jon and Rhaenys.” Sansa gasped at her sister’s casual use of the royals' given names, but Robb just chuckled at her antics. There was a treacherous smile tugging at Gendry’s lips too.

“Wait!”,Arya didn’t even mind the older nobles and snatched for Gendry’s hand. She held his callous palm in between her soft fingers. “You have a soulmark?” There was a crude bracelet wrapped around his wrist. Arya held her own up, showing a Stark-colored band Sansa had stitched for her. It was made from a strand of thin and soft leather, Sansa had spent a good time prepoking and embroidering. It was made from material leftover from their father’s wardrobe. Arya loved it more than she would ever admit to Sansa.

“We are matching.”, she declared to Gendry who just blinked at her for a moment. “They are both leather bracelets I mean.”

Robb laughed out loud at the heat in Arya’s face and only came to a stuttering halt when he noticed Rhaenys looking at him with those deep, dark eyes. He shot her a nervous smile, his heart rose…

“You should look after Myrcella.”, she said and he was sobered real quick. “I would go myself but I think it’s better if you do.”

“She is your betrothed.”, she added as if to remind him.

As if he needed reminding…

He turned, his smile vanishing. She looked troubled in the little space she was pacing, her pretty face turned to the sun and the warm sunlight dancing in her golden hair.

It was a reminder of how young she was, but the peaceful picture didn’t last.

Myrcella turned sharply to him. The kind girl he had known until now, had an eerie resemblance to her mother and her older brother, her eyes were hard and unyielding now. Robb swallowed and-

“Myrcella, I know that the circumstances-“

“No, you don’t  _ know _ .”, she hissed, obviously struggling to keep her voice down. It was still full of venom. “Robb you-“, she scoffed and flexed her fingers helplessly. “You have no idea what you are doing to me, what your father is obviously doing to me  _ right now _ -“

“I know-“, he winced at his own wording. “that they are bastards but I thought that you would be gracious enough to give your siblings a warm welcome.”

“Those are maybe my father’s bastards, but they are strangers to me! I could have been gracious.”, the words were tumbling out like a curse. “If any of you might have told me instead of Lord Arryn appearing out of thin air with a half dozen  _ fucking children _ -!”

She stopped and blinked. 

“Unless you didn’t want me to know…”

Robb couldn’t look at her, couldn’t- She laughed, a dry and hopeless sound so far away from her normal self. “Unless this is about my father-  _ and _ my mother.”

“Myrcella-“ 

“I know you don’t trust me because you don’t know me, but if you would just put half the energy in getting to know me as you put in spending time with Rhaenys Targaryen you might have found that I don’t agree with my mother’s blind rage for my-“

“I don’t-“

“Please stop! You already know her better than you will ever know me if you continue like this. I don’t know if you fancy her or if you really just naively try to be her friend, but-“

She stopped dead in her tracks and looked over her shoulder to the halted caravan. “Gods, Robb, I know it is not their fault that my father is always cheating on and hurting my mother! I would not resent them for what they can not control and even if this maneuver fills me with anger for  _ him _ \- I understand that they might feel safer far away from Lannister men…”

There were tears in her eyes and a tremble to her voice and the jumping of topics left Robb dizzy. Was this about Rhaenys or her half-siblings?

“But you have to understand why my mother wants to get rid of them-“

“You know about the fact that she tries to murder them?”

She drew a shaky breath. “I didn’t really know that she would try to get them murdered, but bastards have always been a threat to trueborn sons…” She still would not look at him. “Look at Prince Jon.”

Robb blinked. “Jon is not a bastard-“

“Anymore.”, Myrcella fixed him once more, less hopeless and more composed. “Jon was legitimized pretty quickly after his birth and-“, she gestured a bit. “And now there is talk that the King wants to change succession so he inherits the throne and not Aegon is trueborn eldest son.” Another pause. “I know that my mother’s fears maker her do horrible things and that my- half siblings can’t be blamed for solely existing, but it will forever be a threat for both Joff and Tommen-“

“Look at Gendry! He looks exactly like father! No one in the Stormlands likes my Mother- Half of them still pity father for ‘losing’ your aunt to Rhaegar. It would only take one Lord patient enough to implement one of Father’s noble bastards as an heir or at least try. Joff is a brat, but it’s not only his future. It’s mine and Tommen’s too…”

He had listened to her quietly. “I never thought about that.”, he admitted. How come that Myrcella, who was so much younger, had such a pessimistic outlook on their society?

“Of course you haven’t. You didn’t have to. Your parents are famously in love with each other. Your father would never father a bastard and humiliate your mother with public affairs.” There were angry tears shining in her eyes. “You are the heir. You have options. I am a girl and I am betrothed without my input- And don’t say you weren’t asked either. Who between us would they take more seriously?”

“Myrcella-“

“I know that I am way too young for you but please- please, try with me because when you won’t even give me a flicker of attention I could never be happy in Winterfell… But I-“

Whatever she wanted to say further was sealed between her lips. She looked away, looked at the princess, who was conversing with the bastard boys. She was right of course… In many ways, but he- It wasn’t that easy…

She was barely ten, not older than Arya, his baby sister…

But that wasn’t really an good argument in any way.

“It is alright.”, she took a breath and smoothed a hand through her locks, but Robb doubted that it was. When was anything alright these days anyway?

She smiled at him but it felt hollow and made him angry with himself. This was a little girl afraid of her future in a foreign environment and he had been less than ideal to her. He had to be better. He owed that to so many people, but there was not much leaving his mouth anymore.

Robb took Myrcella’s arm once more as they walked back to the pack. He squeezed her hand for good measure but she still didn’t look at him.

Rhaenys did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing Myrcella's dialoge was hard but I hope it wasnt too unbelievable lol


End file.
